


Bag Me Up

by Gingernutting



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (nothing explicit its just talked about), CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN!, Gen, Ghost Keith, How Do I Tag, I attempt comedy, Lance and Hunk lose their shit: The Novel, Mentions of drugs, Mild Gore, Mild Language, OOC, Road Trips, Sexual Content, Stockholm Syndrome, everyone is really damn delusional too, everyone loses their minds, i partly wrote this just to use Ghosty McGhostface in a sentence, majorly inspired by Two Little Boys, not edited, please ask me if you think anything else should be tagged!, so far everything is platonic but you can interpret it as shippy if you like, they're all in their late twenties
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-09-20 20:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9513107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingernutting/pseuds/Gingernutting
Summary: When Lance accidentally runs over a backpacker at 2am, his first thought is to run to his lifelong-buddy-pal-partner-in-crime Hunk for help, with a simple plan: dispose of that body in the back of his car and avoid the police.Things only get complicated when the body doesn't want to stay hidden and it's owner is haunting them every step of the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this without internet while I was on holiday. Title is from Bombay Bicycle Club's 'How can you swallow so much sleep?'

Lance struggled to keep his eyes open, driving home on a Friday night at two am, his only company the putts and purrs of his engine and the dim streetlights that moths enjoyed smacking themselves into and which casted an orange glow over everything, glistening off the bonnet of his cobalt blue car and tinting the concrete. One headlight was broken, honestly he should get it fixed before he got a police fine, but in this small Nevada town, the police just turned a blind eye to ‘trivial matters’. The smell of dinner still lingered in the car, hot salty chips and a warm sugared doughnut, and a string of shells swung from the rear view mirror. Just the thought of home was making him drowsy, once he hit the bed, it would be lights out for him and hopefully he would wake up mid day tomorrow. It was a quiet night, and there was no-one else on the road, barely any houses either.

 Lance yawned and wiped his eyes, inhaling sharply when something got caught in his headlights. Lance slammed on the brakes and swerved sharply to the left-

 “ _Shit!”_

 

_Ba-dump-a-dump-ba-dump-a-dump-CRASH_

 

Lance’s nose suddenly smashed against the steering wheel, and he was jolted wide awake with the car jarring and a feeling of pure panic as oh god something went under the tyres. Okay okay okay, Lance gulped thickly, probably just a now flattened sign. His heart thundered in his ears and a tightness wrapped around his chest.

He crashed into a streetlight, the light flickering as the wires sizzled around the twisted metal. Hopefully no-one saw him crash on this bleak road, and his car, though with the hood crunched and everything inside shaken about like a cocktail, could go on for a few more kilometres easily.

He should probably check though.

"Fuck me." Lance groaned out loud, pinching the nostrils of his now broken and bleeding nose, grumbling to himself as he opened the car door to inspect the bonnet, what he didn't expect was for his heart to lurch into his throat and his blood run cold.

A man was staring right up at him.

" _Fuck_! Jesus, uh, um, wh-whadoIdo!? I'msosorrysosorrysosorr-" Lance panicked, crouching down next to the dying man, hands shaking. There were clear tyremarks over his chest, which looked a little too flat to be healthy, and there was blood streaming down to his lips from his nose, a large graze shredding from the underside of his chin to his jaw. The man looked up at Lance with bleary eyes, panting shallowly. Lance grabbed his limp hand and pulled out his phone. "Hang in there buddy, you're not dead 'til I say so-"

When Lance glanced back, the man sighed for the final time. This was bad, I mean, this was 'congrats, you are now a wanted criminal and murderer' kind of bad. This...this couldn't be happening, this only happened in the movies, not to some twenty-six year old barista who still slept with Finding Nemo bedsheets.

"Jesus...sorry about runnin' you over...with my car in the middle of the night." Lance inhaled a sharp breath and slapped himself hard on the side of his face. And again. And again. Fuck this was some really surreal dream. Only it wasn't, and he was still holding the lifeless hand of some stranger. Ew. Think Lance, think! A plan started to form in his mind.

1) take the body with him  
2) drive to Hunk's, he should know what to do  
3) dump the body somewhere and get off scot-free.

Couldn't go wrong, could it?

Lance grinned and wiped his bleeding nose with the back of his wrist, pulling the man out from under his car by the armpits. With the light on him, Lance could get a better look. He wasn't actually that bad looking, minus the blood all over his pale face, with jet black hair and a strong jaw, probably Japanese? Korean? Didn't really matter. Lance patted the man's jean pockets, pulling out a phone and a leather wallet (for identification purposes) and dug his hands under the man's armpits. Christ, he was pretty heavy, even though he had to be around Lance's height.

"C'mon...move already!" He hissed through grit teeth as he heaved the man across the concrete to the boot, popping it open, and after a few tries, successfully got him in. Lance was out of there like he never crashed in the first place.

  
" _There's a body in the boot, there's body in the boot, mami is gonna kill me if she ever finds out oh shitshitshit_ -'  
Lance screamed internally, parking inside Hunk's driveway as carefully as he could. Lance wound down the windows, not caring if the bugs got in or not, and he opened the man's wallet. It contained twenty dollars in ten dollar notes, a few cards, and a driver's license, which Lance read the first few lines of.

 

 _Keith Gyeong_  
_Country of origin: United States of America/South Korea_ _  
Donor  
__DOB: 13/10/1990_

 

At least he had a name to a face. A tiny photograph was in the wallet’s window as well, of the body- _Keith_ \- leaning on another man, broad shouldered and with an undercut, grinning at the camera. Brother, maybe? God, this guy's family, they would miss him, not knowing where their brother or son was, fretting about him only for him to be rotting in a dump or at the bottom of a lake. Lance jumped when he heard the house's door open, a large man in a white tank top and flannel shorts walking down the steps to Lance with a confused expression on his face.

"Lance? It's like, two am, what's got ya?" Hunk offered a smile and rested his folded arms on the car door, his expression quickly growing concerned when he met Lance’s clearly spooked face. "Lance, buddy, you okay? Your car looks like shit. Seen a ghost? Met an alien-?"

"Y-you're my best friend, right? Right Hunk?" Lance gulped and fidgeted nervously. Hunk blinked back a little unnerved.

"We've been friends since we were four years old, you don't need me tellin’ you that."

"Thank god, is there a chance you would help me in hidin' a hody?"

Hunk shrugged. "Depends."

"I have a body in the boot." Lance deadpanned. Hunk chuckled lightly for a bit, then stopped when he saw Lance was dead serious. His warm face quickly fell to one of disbelief and worry.

  
"Mate...what did you _do_ ?" Hunk accused.

  
"I-I...it-it was an accident! Please, please Hunk, help me out I-I dunno what to do-" Lance stammered on the verge of tears, stimming it out by waving his hands around uselessly.

  
"I'll open the garage, can't do it out here." Hunk said plainly, his voice low. He was almost as worried as Lance.

  
Oh Hunk was a saint, someone Lance could easily count on. Him and Hunk go way back to Kindergarten: playing in a sandpit with spaceships and plastic dinosaurs, to graduating together. Tight as two peas in a pod. Hopefully.

  
"Shit, Lance, th-this is bad, I hate to be the voice of reason, but we gotta call the police-" Hunk started

 

"No! We-we can’t! I can’t go to jail, y’know what they’ll do to me there, and you’re not sacrificin’ yourself for me either." Lance interrupted firmly, his strained voice up an octave. Hunk rubbed his chin and grimly nodded. Both were staring down at Keith's body, curled up on its side (almost like he was just sleeping) with his large military green hikers bag tucked next to him.

  
"I still think we should tell someone, hang on, l-let's get some coffee first."  
Hunk stated and slammed the lid shut, Lance giving one last long look at it before following Hunk in. His little blue car would also be forever tainted.

  
It still felt unreal, sipping lukewarm coffee that threatened to spill from his shaky hands, on a blanket covered couch at three am, metres away from a body lying in his car. Tissues were stuffed up his nostrils and his nose was swollen.

  
"I think I'm gon' puke, I'll b-be back." Lance stammered and set his mug on the floor, legs shaking down the hallway as he turned into the bathroom, turning on the lights to see someone else in there. And it only wanted to make him puke twice as much. Lance yelped and propelled himself back against the door, wincing when his back collided with a small metal hook.

  
Keith Gyeong stood in the middle of the bathroom, staring straight into Lance's eyes, mirroring his shock, confusion and fear.

  
"Tell me, what the fuck is going on?" Keith calmly asked, brows slightly furrowed and he swallowed thickly. He took fleeting glances around the basic room, and looked Lance up and down. "And where am I?"

  
No. No, Keith was dead, Keith was rotting in the car that killed him less than an hour ago.

  
"Y-you're dead." Lance breathed back in disbelief. Keith scoffed and wrinkled his nose.

  
"Ha, ha, we have a real comedian here. Lemme guess, I'm drunk and found my way-"

  
"No, no really, you're dead I-I saw you die...wait." Lance took a few steps forward and planted his hands on Keith's chest. His hands went right through, as if he was never there. Keith jumped back in surprise, shaking his head in disbelief and staring at his hands. Keith stared back up at him.

  
"How-how do you know for sure that I'm dead? _How_ am I dead?" Keith desperately gripped onto Lance's shoulders. His grip barely did anything, almost no pressure there at all and his fingers sunk into Lance’s jacket slightly.

  
"I-I...fuck it, I ran you over and watched you die." Lance gave in. Keith took it in for about three seconds, then he snarled and raised his fist, bringing it through Lance's head. Of course, it did nothing, apart from give Lance a small shiver.

  
"You _what!?_ "

  
"It was an accident!"

Keith panted and gasped for air, his anger turning into sheer horror, and he sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, knitting his trembling fingers and twirling his thumbs. "And where is my body?"

  
"It's...ah, the back of my car?"

 

"Fuck you."

 

“I don’t blame ya.” Lance sighed, not feeling the need to puke anymore, instead, he watched a dead man have a complete breakdown in a stranger's bathroom. Keith took a shaky sigh and looked Lance in the eye.

 

“So what’s gonna happen now? By the way, God has abandoned us.”

 

Lance snorted in confusion. “Whadoya mean? God has abandoned us?”

 

Keith shrugged back. “Well there’s no heaven. If there was, I’d be in hell.”

 

Alright, he had a point, Lance noted. “Oh, and I got your wallet an’ phone.”

 

Keith jerked up at that. “Where?”

 

“My car, I-”

 

“I have an idea, c’mon.” Keith made to grab at Lance’s hand and the door handle, and when his hands couldn't even hold onto them properly, instead his hands sunk into them, Lance opened the door for him, and instead briskly walked behind Keith down the hallway. “If we can call my brother we can-”

 

As they passed Hunk in the kitchen, they took a double take at the man. Hunk was darting his eyes between Lance and Keith, jaw hung open. The plate he was holding clattered to the ground.

 

“Oh man...Lance, you’re seein’ this too, right?” Hunk said, dark brown eyes blown wide.

 

“Did you run over me too?” Keith shot Hunk an accusing stare.

 

“Keith, no, it was just me an’ I sorta dragged Hunk into this. And Hunk, meet Keith, the owner of the body.” Lance stated, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. “Now do your shit Keith.”

 

Hunk nodded slowly and followed them outside, double checking for anyone who might see them, too shaken up to even question a ghost in his house.

 

“Well here it is.” Lance gulped and hesitated at popping open the back of the car. “You sure you wanna see this?”

 

Keith nodded. “I’m already dead, don’t forget...how bloody is it?”

 

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “pretty bad.”

 

Lance rolled his eyes and flipped it up, revealing the body inside. Lance saw Keith take a few steps back, a hand clasping his mouth.

 

“No...can I check?” Keith insisted, as if the body in the boot wasn't his. When he reached down to grab at the body’s hair, his fingers went straight through. “Uh, there’s a small birthmark behind my left ear, if you can check it.” Keith brushed the hair on his own self away to, sure enough, reveal a small red birthmark that roughly looked like Italy.

 

Lance shared a look with Hunk before reaching down to brush the hair away, and sure enough, an Italy-shaped birthmark was right there.

 

“Fuck...I, uh, also have a scar on my left set of ribs? A nail long?”

 

Lance, once again, pulled up the bloodied and torn shirt to show a neat little pink scar, the length of a standard nail. Keith shook his head in disbelief.

 

“Alright, can I see it’s dick?” Keith blew up, now looking very worried and panicked. “just...look away at least.”

 

“Goddamnit.” Lance groaned, everyone pulling a face at the awkwardness of the whole situation.

 

Lance cringed and pulled a face as he worked on the jeans button and fly and covered his eyes, hooking his finger under the waistband and lifting, hearing Keith’s strangled gasp.

 

“Shit, it really is me.” Keith said blankly.

 

“Uh, not trying to be nosy, but you got a...a piercing or something down there?” Hunk asked, shielding his eyes with a wince.

 

“Well, who wouldn't recognise their own dick?”

 

“Huh, good point.” Hunk noted, while Lance snickered and drew his finger back. “So what was your plan, anyway?”

 

Keith rubbed his chin, still staring down at his body. “To get into my phone and call the police-”

 

“Nope, that’s a worse idea than mint flavoured oreos, for one thing, _it’s your phone!_ Second, the police is the last thing on my mind right now _-”_ Lance started.

 

“Okay, okay! I...wanted to call my brother, see if it would work, can ghosts call people? Has it been tested?” Keith interrupted. Lance held a hand up to quiet him.

 

“Hold the phone...gimme a tick.” He got to the passenger seat and grabbed the wallet and phone, presenting the picture inside to the others, and he too stifled a gasp as he saw the man in the picture in clearer light. “This is your brother, right?”

 

Keith nodded. “Yeah. Technically, he’s my foster brother, I was adopted by his family, but he’s still my brother.”

 

“No way, you’re Takashi Shirogane’s brother!? Man, I swear I saw Lance makin’ out with a picture of him back in high scho-”

 

“Nevermind that! Keith, wh-what’s your phone password?” Lance cut off Hunk, getting a little flustered and switching on Keith’s phone. It had a red and black plaid case, and a lock screen with some sort of mechanical red lion, probably from a cartoon or something. It was a pattern password.

 

“From the left, three down, three across and two up.”

 

This guy had no social life, Lance could tell, with only a reader app, a bank app, a google docs app and a tumblr app. Geez, who was this guy really? Lance snickered, the home screen from a cartoon he knew as well.

 

“Gravity Falls?” Lance snickered, Hunk leaning over to look at the phone as well. Keith flushed a little at that.

 

“Well sorry I didn't expect my future murderer to go through my phone.”

 

“We’re just messin’ with ya,” Hunk smiled at Keith warmly, if a little scared. “What do you even do for a living?”

 

“I’m...I’m a pilot, like my brother.”

 

It was no secret, Takashi Shirogane was a legendary pilot, who had full military honours after going big, thanks to some quick thinking and sick piloting skills saving a squadron of soldiers and a general, and it helped him into getting accepted as an astronaut. Lance saw Takashi as a hero, and him and Hunk were saving to get into his former school, a military college called the Garrison. Who cares if they’re five years older than most of the fellow newbies? He would rather pilot ships than continue minimum wage at a Starbucks.

 

“Cute, military or somethin’?” Lance added.

 

“Commercial pilot for American airlines.” Keith answered.

 

“Woah, you enjoy it?” Hunk asked, getting a look of curiosity.

 

“Flying? Yes. Long hours with no breaks for days at a time? No.”

 

Lance and Hunk both kept quiet after that, Lance scrolling through Keith’s short contract list.

 

“You sure you wanna call him?”

 

Keith looked down at the floor guiltily. “If he doesn't hear me, he’ll get worried. I don’t want him stressing out over me.”

 

Lance hesitated, but pressed the call button, the phone beeping for two seconds before being picked up.

 

_“Keith? How are you? Having fun on break?”_

 

A warm voice got through the other end, and Keith perked up a bit at hearing his brother’s voice.

 

“Shiro! I’m sorta in need of-”

 

_“Hello? Keith? Are you there?”_

 

It didn't take an idiot to see how guttered Keith looked in that moment, mouth still slightly parted and his bottom lip trembling a little.

 

_“Hello? Keith, please tell m-”_

 

Lance hung up, not wanting to put anyone through this anymore.

 

A solemn silence settled on the room, no-one meeting each other's eyes or looking up. Lance clicked off the phone and set it and the wallet on the car roof.

 

“So what are we gonna do?” Hunk quietly asked to no-one in particular.

 

“We hide the body, and don’t look back, make it look like an accident.” Lance said.

 

“How about you guys just go up to the police? Hm?” Keith snarked back.

 

“Hey! You know what goes on in there! I’m barely a fetus myself, I’ll fuckin’ die in there!”

 

“Aren't you twenty-six?” Keith bit, and Lance threw his hands in the air with a loud sigh.

 

“Whatever, Hunk, I’m sorry I dragged you into this, I just need a beer and a shovel. I’ll put this fucker in the ground.” Lance snarled at Keith.

 

“Eat my entire ass, _Lance_.”

 

“Suck my dick, _Keith.”_

 

“Stop fighting, you two! Look, I know we’re all a lil’ freaked out, a lil’ angry and a lil’ upset, but shouting at each other is only gonna get some attention from the neighbours.” Hunk pointed out, shutting them both up almost instantly. “And Lance, there’s a shovel and a six pack of beer next to my scooter.”

 

If Lance could kiss Hunk, he would. Instead, he smiled back a thanks, which Hunk mirrored, and grabbed the stuff.

 

“And Kei-”

 

Hunk faltered as he looked around, wherever Keith was, he wasn't here anymore.

 

-

 

_“Hey Hunk! Watch this!”_

 

_Lance waved to Hunk from the other side of the stream, targeting the deep spot in the source of water then cannonballing in it._

 

_“Woah, good one! Watch this!”_

 

_Hunk also bombed into the water, barely a metre away from Lance, splashing him with cool water on a hot summer day. Lance laughed and splashed at him back, the two laughing a giggling in a half-hearted waterfight. Just eight year old being eight year olds._

 

Lance sighed and stared at the spot: a river that was once a lazy flowing stream, now surrounded by leafy trees and long grasses. The trees made a small canopy over the area, making the spot a perfect place for swimming in hot days.

 

Just like him and Hunk used to, only now the spot was going to be a body dump.

 

The river ran into a vast lake after an hours walk, and where the stream ended was pretty remote and cold, hopefully cold enough that the body would sink instead of floating. To add to it, you had to be off-road to get to it, and there wasn't even a walker’s track to get there.

 

Perfect.

 

Lance took a long drag of his beer can and set it in the cupholder, fetching the garden spade from the backseat and swinging it over his shoulder, his hood pulled up over his head. His stomach was doing backflips, and as cool and chilled out as he wanted to seem, internally he was scared shitless, and there was a slight tremble in his walk and his nerves were all jumpy and on edge. He’d never killed anyone before, he’d never touched a body before now, and he’d never _ever_ stuffed a body in the back of his car only for it to be dumped in his childhood swimming hole.

 

Popping open the boot, the body was in the same position, only rigor mortis had started to set in, and the skin was pale with the eyes sunken in a little. Lance winced and shuddered.

 

“There’s a packet of Reese's Pieces in the front pocket of my bag.”

 

Lance yelped a bit too loudly and a bit too high pitched when a familiar voice spoke from beside him, and when he looked to his right, Keith was staring at the bag.

 

“y’know, seems like a waste to just throw it in the water.”

 

Lance shook his head and puffed out his chest slightly. “Sorry, not eating anything that's been around a dead guy for more than five minutes.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “Even though it’s from my dead body...by the way, you can keep the money in my wallet, not gonna need it anymore.”

 

Lance gulped and rested the spade gently against the car, grunting as he dragged the body onto the ground, pushing it with the spade into the water with a splash. Lance let out a sigh of relief as it floated down the river face-down. He grabbed his beer again and sat down in the grass with the bloodied green bag. Keith sat down next to him and leaned against a rock.

 

“Wish I could still eat an’ drink.” Keith said out of the blue. “being dead...is being dead, I guess. But I miss food.”

 

Keith eyed Lance’s beer, and an idea drifted into Lance's head. Lance grinned and tapped his nails against the tin.

 

“What if I literally feed you?” Lance suggested, giving his beer can a few light shakes to make his point.

 

Keith pouted in thought then shrugged. “For ghost science, or whatever, because being fed is just a one way ticket to losing your dignity.”

 

Lance smiled and when Keith leaned forwards with his lips slightly parted, he poured the liquid slowly through his lips. Lance tried to hide his laugh as it splattered on the ground, but Keith quickly sat back up, licking his lips. He must have been truly desperate for someone to literally feed him, Lance reflected.

 

“It...worked, alright, and even shitty beer tastes good when you're dead.” Keith inspected. Lance full out snorted, laughing until his face and ribs hurt. He just fed a ghost like a goddamned baby, something he wouldn't dream of doing yesterday. It was early dawn, but it was still dim and damp in the morning, and he hasn't slept for almost twenty-four hours.

 

“If you're gonna act like that, I’m never eatin’ again.” Keith huffed at the man howling on the ground.

 

“I-I’m - _hic! -_ not sorry!” Lance laughed back, to Keith's annoyance. He eventually stopped laughing after a minute or two. One minute he was dumping a body into a moving river, the next he was in tears laughing his heart out. Keith even had it in him to smile weakly at Lance’s antics. His laughter died down after a bit.

 

“Why are you here anyway?” Lance asked, leaning back on the grass and resting his head on his hands.

 

“Small holiday, just a few days in Nevada.” Keith sighed back. “Then I got hit by a driver who should never have had a license in the first place. I think you know the rest.”

 

“Rude.” Lance scoffed back. “But yeah, I’m sorry about that. What’s in the bag by the way?”

 

“Clothes, passport, food, just a normal bag, really.”

 

Lance inspected the bag. It smelt slightly of dried blood, the red in small patches around the bag. It was like a typical hiker’s bag, with clips and compression straps on the side and GYEONG written on the fabric in black sharpie. A few pairs of clothes were inside, clothes a size too small for Lance’s tall frame. However, Lance did in fact pocket the Reese's Pieces for later, and he picked apart a few things in there: nothing too out of the ordinary, a couple of lighters, condoms, and a few pens with no notepad.

 

“You know what? Take whatever you want from there, I don't need it and if it’s just gonna be at the bottom of a lake, you might as well.”  Keith relented, leaning back on the grass as well.

 

“Uh, thanks? Yeah, thanks Keith.”

 

“Don’t mention it.”

 

Lance pocketed a few things that couldn't be traced back to Keith, like the condoms, food and lighters. The rest Lance zipped up and threw in the river.

 

“What now?” Lance asked, watching the bag float down the stream before disappearing over a bend.

 

“Dunno. Think I might just hang around you and Hunk for a bit.” Keith answered.

 

“You gonna hang around with your own murderer?”

 

“It was an accident, but yes, you _are_ a murderer now and...I dunno, just cause?” Keith shrugged and scrunched up his face a little.

 

“Aight, and-”

 

“Scratch that, I’m going to haunt you to the grave.”

 

“Oh fuck that.” Lance groaned back and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Ugh, I needa shower.”

 

“I’m not showering with you.”

 

“Who said you was?”

 

Keith snorted back, laughing like a bell. Minus the blood all over his face, Lance decided that Keith was pretty good looking, probably had the ladies throwing themselves at him.

 

“Man, did you leave a girlfriend behind?”

 

Keith smiled and shook his head. “I left single, would’ve been nice though, but honestly?” he snorted and shook his head, drawing up his knees loosely and crossing his ankles, folding his arms to rest on top of his knees. “I’m fine being on my own.”

 

He wasn't sure why he was only feeling it now, but Lance could feel the tell-tale signs of his chest tightening and a hard lump settle in his throat. Keith had a lot ahead of him, for God’s sake they were literally the same age. And Lance just had to steal all that away from him.

 

“Fuck...Keith, I-I guess I fucked over your chances, huh?” Lance choked out, his lip quivering. He had Keith’s blood staining his hands, no amount of scrubbing them raw would ever really get them clean again. Lance swallowed thickly and tipped his head back, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I fucked up...I...g-goddamn it.”

 

Lance squeezed his eyes tightly shut, letting the first few tears fall, even his clenched jaw couldn't stop the strangled sob and the wet sniff he just made. He was surprised it took him this long to cry, he blamed it on the shock, but now that he had finally done the deed, it crashed on him like a wooden coffin. Or rather a bloodied and broken body.

 

Keith remained silent, like his way of a passive act of revenge.

 

Lance sobbed into his hands, shaking and crying himself out until he felt like sleeping for a month. Keith silently sitting next to him. After a few minutes, Lance thought that it should be a good idea to check on the body, see if it made it down the stream. He wiped his face and nose with the back of his sleeve and stood up, brushing invisible dust off his clothes.

 

“You comin’?” Lance shrugged with a sniff, his hands in his pockets. Keith sighed and stood up as well after a moment of thinking, walking by Lance’s side. “Jus’ wonderin’, you ever, I dunno, freak out at seeing your body? Like sure, you almost died twice and had an existential crisis the first time, but now?”

 

Keith stuck out his bottom lip. “It sorta feels...like looking at a painting you see everyday, it wears off after a bit. I’d still like to see it in one piece though.”

 

One piece? He was pretty hard-pressed for it to even be reasonably intact after this. Lance rolled his eyes, watching the river when his breath hitched and he felt himself deflate, for Keith’s stiff body was now curled around a rock and his bag washed up on the riverbanks. Guess operation dump body in river was a failure.

 

“Christ! No!” Lance waded into the shallows to retrieve the body, kicking it to the sand and slinging the bag over his arm, ignoring Keith’s grimace.

 

“Hey! That’s _my body_ you’re kicking!” Keith objected with a horrified outcry.

 

“Yeah, yeah, and water is dry.” Lance said blankly back, dragging the body by the foot. “We need a bigger body of water.”

 

Keith groaned and ran a hand through his floppy hair. “Great. Just great, just dismember me while you’re at it too, hm?”

 

Lance dropped the body out of spite this time, his blood beginning to boil. “Why you getting so worked up about this? It should be me getting pissed!”

 

“Well all I know is that my body is gonna swell up real soon an’ it’s gonna smell like death!” Keith retorted, crossing his arms defensively. “just get it in the back,go back to Hunk’s, an’ we’ll figure something out.”

 

-

 

Hunk wasn't the most ecstatic that he now had a body back in his garage, or that it hadn't been disposed of.

 

“I knew we should’ve called the police...any ideas on body disposal that does not include anything too barbaric?” Hunk sighed, biting his nails out of anxiety.

 

“There’s a dump, only that it’s guarded and the police is who we should sorta be avoiding right now.” Lance said flatly. “This whole situation is tits up already, and with the body already waterlogged, might as well have some fun.”

 

Lance glanced over at the back of the car, a smug smile on his face as a plan started forming in his mind, not noticing the other two’s horrified expressions.

 

“Dude, I know you’ve done some pretty weird stuff, but this crosses the line. Sorry, not sorry.” Hunk warned.

 

“If you fuck my dead body I swear to god I will drag you down to hell.” Keith threatened with a snarl.

 

Whoops, wrong wording, Lance mentally slapped himself.

 

“Guys, no, you sickos. I was thinking, maybe...we could go on a road trip! Just you, me, an’ Ghosty McGhostface-”

 

“Hey!”

 

“-to California? I mean, it’s the closest place with open beaches, _real_ open beaches, so why don’t we drop the body there and have some fun in the sun for a day? We can just call in sick to work, it’ll be great!” Lance bubbled with a sly grin on his face. To be honest, out of all of Lance’s far-fetched ideas, this one was the most plausible. Hunk and Keith shared a look, eyebrows raised. There wasn't a lot they could do really, and a body dump under the disguise of a holiday just might be their best bet. Lance ignored the sliver of doubt in his gut.

 

“If it’s fine by Keith, I’m all in. But I got work today, tomorrow maybe?” Hunk gave in, a small nervous smile on his face. “Never thought I’d be hearing ‘fun’ and ‘body dumping’ in the same sentence.” He joked as an afterthought.

 

“There’s sharks there though. But what the hell, I’ve given up thinking of ways to contact the police.” Keith agreed with a frown. Lance grinned wider and pumped a fist in victory. It may take another day, but it was a day less until his problems would be gone.

 

“Yeah, just gimme a shower first, I smell like dead body.” Lance joked, a little giddy that his suggestion worked. The good kind of giddy, though. They were actually gonna do it, they were actually gonna go on a roadtrip to California just to drop off a body.

 

Lance scrubbed his skin until it felt a little raw.

 

-

 

Lance and Hunk both agreed that until this ordeal was over, they better stay together for safety. Even so, Hunk was reluctant to go to work in the morning, having had no sleep at all, but there’s nothing a couple of caffiene pills in a hot cup of coffee can’t solve.

 

Hunk, as Keith learnt, was a mechanic at a small garage and worked long hours. From seven to five for the extra pay in it. The garage itself was small, with an open wall and only one lone joist, as well as a broken air conditioner and 'vintage' wall heaters. It was tidy enough though, even with oil patches on the concrete floor and the worker’s overalls not being washed since 1997. The hot day was enough for Hunk’s brow to dampen a little with sweat and the sun was bright. Thankfully the garage was host to a nice little patch of shade.  
  
"Nice car, right?" Hunk smiled over at Keith, who was wearing a very convincing half smile in the seat of a Lamborghini. "Man, what I'd give to take her for a spin."  
  
"Yeah, it's beautiful. But motorbikes are still better." Keith replied as Hunk repaired a fault with the engine.  
  
"I'd take a Lambo as my weapon of choice any day." He laughed back.  
  
Keith had appeared at Hunk's work for some reason, he was not entirely sure how he got there, but even with the whole 'body in the car' ordeal, Hunk liked Keith's company, partly because Keith didn't hold a grudge over him and that they both shared an interest in automobiles. Keith liked Harley Davidson motorbikes and low-key Hondas, Hunk liked classic American and fast cars. And Keith could actually be in stitches at Hunk's jokes. If anyone else was around, it would look like Hunk was having a conversation with himself, not with a ghost.  
  
"All I need is a motorbike with an engine over two-hundred cc, and I'm sorted." Keith commented, staring off into the distance as if he was recalling a fond memory.  
  
"Oh yeah?" Hunk egged him on with a teasing edge.  
  
"Yeah. I love my ol' bike. Not a Harley, but a cherry red Honda Magna. Me an' Shiro made a few mods to it, and it was beautiful." Keith smiled and sank down into the leather passenger seat, glancing over at Hunk, who nodded for him to continue. "I just may have stolen her, believe it or not. I was nineteen, I was being a dick. But even after I didn't technically need her anymore, I just...couldn't let her go, too many memories. I spent a year living in the desert all alone. It was...n-nevermind, I don't regret it. Had a shack that was always cool in the heat, and there was no such thing as showerin'. Did some pretty stupid stuff, made a few mistakes, just hope that none of 'em will claim my ass soon."  
  
Keith sighed, deep in his nostalgia trip. Hunk didn't want to feel like he was pressuring Keith, but he continued.  
  
"I was jobless, the shack wouldn't have counted as a home, and I was young. I owe my life to Shiro, he helped me outta there, hell, it led to me being adopted in the end...I-I guess I...nevermind, it’s not important.”  
Keith confessed. Hunk frowned, he could break the uneasy tension with a knife if he wanted to.  
  
"So why did you go out there?"  
  
Keith knew the question was coming up and he gulped.  
  
"Shiro was deployed, only for a few months. I could handle him being gone, but I couldn't handle him being dead. He was like an older brother to me even back then, his parents were like parents to me, and when they got the telegram he was MIA, another codeword for 'we couldn't find all the body parts', I just stopped." Keith took a breath to steady himself before continuing. "My grades slipped, and I was booted out. Didn't have any legal guardian, so I stole a bike and went."  
  
Hunk watched Keith with new eyes. Something so personal and honest, it made Keith look vulnerable in the few seconds after he spoke before he shook it off. More than just a body in the back of his best friend's car, he was _Keith._ Keith looked up to give Hunk a half smile, which Hunk mirrored.

“But he’s still alive.” Hunk stated, wiping some black grease off his hands onto his overalls.

 

“Yeah, they found him and his crew a year and a half later. Technically, _he_ found them. He escaped, and with some help back at base, they busted out the other members of his crew. Fuck, he went to hell and back, he was tortured for _months_ , came back with an arm missing. I-I found out the details, I wish I didn't.But god, I was so happy my brother got back.” Keith’s face was like a Picasso from the amount of mixed feelings he had, that broody frown he wore in front of Lance had completely vanished.

 

“My sister was deployed for a while. Only a couple of years, and even though she didn't go through what Shiro went through, man, I’d never felt more relieved than when I saw her runnin’ towards us at the airport, still wearin’ her navy uniform.” Hunk smiled softly at Keith.

 

“Fuck the military.” Keith finally said, a sly grin on his face. “Fuck the military!” he repeated more loudly, throwing his head back.

 

“Yeah, fuck the military!” Hunk mirrored, laughing heartily, slamming the bonnet down with gusto, spinning a wrench in his fingers. "Wanna hear a part of my life?"  
  
Keith leaned forwards to listen, folding his arms onto the dashboard and a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his rosebud lips. "I'm listening."

 

“Wanna know how me an’ Lance met? Bit long, so grab some popcorn.” Hunk joked, Keith rolling his eyes.

 

“Unless you throw a bag at my face, alright.”

 

Hunk took that as an ‘a-okay’. “Me an’ Lance go way back, to Kindergarten actually. I was the quiet kid, he was the one who had to be told to quiet down. When we became friends, it gave the teachers one hellova shock: the timid shy kid and the outgoing one. We both cried a lot, something tells me that was a part of it. Always with our rocketships and dinosaurs in the sandpit, or in the pillows back at th’ readin’ corner.”

 

“What else went on? Y’know, primary school?”

 

“Hm? Oh yeah, we went to the same school. Our mums became very good friends as well, went to school together and spent the afternoons together in pillowforts watching cartoons. Still do sometimes.” Hunk laughed lightly. “high school was also great, we weren't always in the same class, I was moved up to gifted classes, but we were still tight. Funny that when he ran you over, his first thought was to run to me, but now that I think of it? I’m not surprised at all.”

 

Keith did notice, it was slightly odd that the very first thing Lance did was drive over to Hunk’s at two am. And they did seem tightly knit together.

 

“What does Lance do for a living?” Keith asked, changing the subject.

 

“Lance juggles two jobs, works at a cafe as a barista half the day, works at a gardening shop the other. Pretty handy too, if you want cheap coffee or mulch…” Hunk responded, but he trailed off at the end. You could almost see the gears in his head clinking together and his moment of ‘eureka’, realising something important. “Wait, Keith, I-I think I may know how to cover up the body!”

-

 

It was around two pm when Keith and Hunk said a quick ‘see you soon’, a plan all worked out, and all Keith had to do was drag Lance out to Hunk’s car.

 

It sounded easy in theory, but when Keith got to Lance, he was in the middle of a breakdown, rocking himself in the middle of the kitchen, all the curtains drawn across and the windows shut tightly. Lance looked worried sick, eyes blown wide and his lips forming silent words.

 

“Lance! Lance, snap outta it!” Keith ran over and crouched down in front of the panicked man, Lance looking up and just seeing how _sick_ he looked was what made Keith’s breath hitch in his throat.

 

“Th-the police are g-gonna get me...they’re-they’re after me, Keith, I can’t-you know I can’t go to p-prison.” he stammered, looking absolutely terrified of Keith.

 

“Lance, Lance, it’s okay-” -no, it wasn't- “you're not gonna go to prison, y’know how I know? Because me an’ Hunk have a plan, it’s fuckin’ genius an’ it’s gonna work, but you have to _pull yourself together!”_

 

Keith shouted, gripping Lance’s wrists, (even if it was more like balling his fists into Lance’s wrists) and Lance looked downright terrified of Keith, shaking and on the verge of tears. Okay, maybe Keith was a little too hard on him. He sighed and continued in a quieter voice.

 

“Me an’ Hunk have a plan, we just need you an’ your employee discount card at whatever gardening store y’work at. Can you do that?”

 

Keith firmly looked Lance right in the eyes, hearing the man give a shaky gulp.

 

“O-okay.” his voice was barely a squeak, clearly far too shaken and anxious. Lance sniffed and shook his head. “I-I’m sorry, it’s not just g-goin’ to p-prison...I killed you way before your time, an’-an’ you're actin’ like this is _nothin’!?”_

 

It was Keith’s turn to wince back at his outburst. How did Keith feel about this? Sure, he was angry. Sure, he was upset. If he could he would just love to deck Lance right on the nose, but they both knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. That, and Keith would not pass up the opportunity to haunt his own murderer. But with Lance in his current state, he couldn't be too cruel on him. It was one thing to haunt him, it was another thing to haunt him during a complete breakdown. Even Keith had standards.

 

“Lance, listen to me, you honestly think I’m not upset? My body is in the back of your car, hell I’m upset! But there’s nothin’ I can do about it. Believe me, I’d live to deck your nose but I can’t even do that.” Keith sharply inhaled. Wow, he was bad at pep talks, these were more of his brother’s thing. “so just calm down, Hunk needs you, and if anything with this plan we got, you’re not gonna go to prison anytime soon.”

 

Keith firmly looked him in the eye, Lance still trembling with Keith’s hands on his shoulders. Oh, what would Shiro do?

 

“C’mere.” Keith mumbled and leaned forwards on his knees, resting his chin on Lance’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his back the best he could, in a loose hug, Lance snivelling away against his shoulder. “Hunk will be outside in two minutes, you’re both gonna make this work if you don’t wanna go to prison, do you understand?”

 

Keith pulled away from the man, still staring him in the eye. Lance nodded and rubbed his eyes.

  
“O-okay, I’ll do it, I’m ready.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything works out in the end, right? That's what's supposed to happen, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! I had a bout of writers block (you can probably tell sorry!] and my laptop was out of action for a few weeks, so most of this was written on my phone. 
> 
> Also, graphic descriptions of corpse shit is in this chapter.

The clothes Lance borrowed off Hunk were a little big for him, but he couldn’t step outside with his own bloodstained clothes. He perked up when he saw Hunk park his scooter in the driveway

“Hunk! I-I got my card!” Lance yelled out as he ran up to his friend. “But what are you an’ Keith plannin’ exactly?”

Hunk raised an eyebrow in confusion. “He didn't tell you?”

“Hm, he was vague about it. We should sorta talk about this in th’ garage, y’know, don’t want any neighbours rattin’ us out.”

Hunk nodded, pulling up the corrugated iron garage door, and at once the smell hit him.

“Oh for the love of Pete, ya got a few gallons of Febreeze or anythin’?”

“I have a can in the bathroom?”

“Good enough, we’ll take it with us.”

The smell of corpse was enough to give Lance a headache, and he swore he puked in his mouth a little. “What are we gonna do with the body, by the way?”

“Well, there’s a tarpaulin somewhere here, me an’ Keith thought about wrappin’ it up in that with a few handfuls of lime to hide the smell and to stop the fluids from stainin’ your car too badly.”

Lance rubbed his chin in thought, eyes darting around the room until his gaze found a tightly folded silver tarpaulin, wedged between a bin and the wall with a few thick rubber bands around it.

“Hey Hunk, you got any lime?”

“I have half a bag outside. Probably not enough to completely hide the smell, but it’ll do for now.”

Lance grinned and crouched down to grab the tarpaulin, popping open the back of the car (trying to to gag at the smell) and handing the other side of the tarpaulin to Hunk.

“If I were you two I’d use a shovel, that smell is like raw fish. In other words, takes forever to go away.” Keith deadpanned, leaning against the garage door with his arms folded. When did he decide to show his mullet up here? He had a point, and Lance took no time at all to use the shovel and wedge it under the body, inch by inch pulling it forwards to roll onto the plastic sheet.

“You guys smell that?” Lance twitched, noticing the grease puddles left by in the fabric, and a peculiar light brown stain. It look around three seconds for it to click, and for him to turn around grinning like a madman at the other two’s mortified faces. “Oh shit! Literal shit! Jesus fuckin’--the corpse shat itself! It fuckin’ shat itself!”

Lance howled and snorted, doubling over as his ribs started to hurt simply from laughing so hard. “Hunk! Hunk check this out! The corpse shat itself!”

“Uh,” Hunk scrunched up his face and shivered, “No thanks, I-I’m good.”

“Whadoya mean ‘I’m good’? IT SHAT ITSELF, HUNK!” Lance poked his finger into Hunk’s chest, turning to Keith, who looked like he was about to faint from a cocktail of embarrassment and second hand humiliation.

“Keith! That’s your body, covered in grease an’ shit, in my car! Holy FUCK DUDE!” Lance continued snorting and laughing.

“I-I...I needa lay down in a hole an’ just, I dunno, die.” Keith stammered, red faced and shaky. At least Hunk showed a little bit of dignity. It all goes back to Lance though, he’s the one needing to dump the body anyway. That and his car now stank of corpse shit.

“Guys, we’re wasting time here, I only have an hour for my lunchbreak, just wrap up the body, coat this shit in lime, and let’s go to the gardenin’ store.”

-

Lance and Hunk hoped they didn't seem too out of place, buying sixteen bags of Blood and Bone, two low trolleys between them as they piled the bags on. If each bag was eight kgs, and they had sixteen between them...well, it was a lot, Lance couldn't be bothered doing the maths.

Lance also wouldn't admit it, but even just pushing the trolley was a workout in itself, especially with Keith sitting cross-legged on his one.

The gardening centre was part of an old failing chain, the floor was always wet from watering the plants and gravel was dragged inside, small stones getting stuck on trolley wheels that squeaked and creaked.

“-corpses do shit themselves, I dunno how exactly, but if I remember correctly, it was some combination of the gas build-up during the early stages of decomposition, I think.”

“Well Hunk, you’ve explained it pretty well to me.” Lance answered his friend. Keith wasn't talking to Lance after that, sitting on the trolley with his back turned to him. Whatever, so Keith can’t take a joke? Not that much of a big deal. The face of the woman working the cashier was almost priceless at seeing the amount of blood and bone they had between them. She had short curly chestnut hair and a large pair of thick black glasses, a bright pink watch strapped to her left wrist, and she looked dead bored before seeing them.

“Hello, uh, how many bags do you two share?” She asked in a small voice.

“Sixteen, oh, an’ in just one payment, thank you.” Hunk answered, stopping Lance from using a cheesy pick-up line just in time. She shrugged and crouched down to scan the barcodes.

“That’ll be one hundred and twenty-four dollars sixty, thank you.”

Lance flinched at that, at least he always got a twenty percent discount with everything, so it wasn't too much of a blow-out on his savings. He just wouldn't eat for a day, that’s all. Keith shot Lance a smug look from where he was now sitting on the counter, completely unnoticed by anyone but him and Hunk. This little fucker, Lance thought. But he should give Keith a break, he did sorta murder him after all...nah, if Keith wants to be annoying, then he had every right to be annoying back, dead or not. It actually made for a pretty good rivalry, Lance thought.

Not being able to use the car boot sucked, and Lance was kicking himself when he had the misfortune of having an eight kg bag sitting on his lap the entire drive home.

 

-

 

“Okay, one, two, three!”

Hunk and Lance both groaned as they lifted two bags between them, piling them in the back of the car in a brickwork-esque pattern. Lance exhaled deeply and wiped his brow with flair.

“We got two more, what should we do with ‘em?” Lance asked, staring pointedly at the two lone bags on the ground.

“For one thing, we have to really sell off the idea that we’re just landscapers, gardeners, whatever, and we’re just heading into Cali for a job. But! We have to sell it, I’m talkin’ dirty clothes, gardenin’ gloves, rakes an’ shovels in the back, it’s pretty foolproof!” Hunk bubbled, really getting into the idea of ‘going undercover’. “An’ if it works, with your gardening store card as further proof, we’re all set an’ ready!”

Just Hunk’s excitement was rubbing off onto Lance, and he found himself grinning.

“Hunk, you mad-cut genius! See, this is why you’re my right-hand man!” He congratulated with a tight hug. Keith was nowhere to be seen, probably prowling around the house being broody and doing other Keith stuff.

“So they’re just going in the back?” Lance guessed.

“Mmhm, now help me get as many tools as possible in with ‘em.”

Lance took the lighter tools, the leftover dirt from them rubbing off into his sleeves, and piled them into the car. It looked convincing enough to them, all they had to do was get across the border.

-

 

The dining table now had toast crumbs all over it, and a small bag for Lance and Hunk was already packed (Lance and Hunk always kept a spare change of clothes at each others houses) and the dishes were done. Lance always took the driver's seat, Hunk in the passenger side, and Keith awkwardly sat in the middle space of the backseats.

“-so yeah, I’ve been puking all morning, my asthma is playing up, I can't come to work today, sorry...okay...okay...you’re an angel Marion, see you in a couple of days.” Lance put on his best sick sounding voice possible and hung up, whooping once he was given the all clear for a few days leave from work.

“You have asthma?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a bitch really.” Lance replied. “Why don’t we all play twenty questions, get to know each other without bedding each other, right?”

“Sure, I’m up for that.” Hunk replied, Keith nodding along.

“Okay, I suggested it, so I go first. Keith, why did you have five condoms in your bag?” Lance asked with a smirk. Hunk snorted at seeing Keith flush a little.

“Wh-why else would I have them?”

“I dunno, were you looking forward to sleepin’ around a nightclub with a bunch of honies or?” Lance teased.

“Uh, about that, I don’t exactly...like women in that way.” Keith admitted quietly. “I was looking for dudes, not girls.”

“Dude...no way, I like dudes too, that’s one thing we got in commo-” Lance started, his eyebrow raised and a growing grin on his face.

“Next question! Keith, did you have any goals or aspirations for life?” Hunk interrupted, knowing all too well that Lance would use some unnecessary lewd pick-up line ‘for laughs’.

“Not really, finding mothman would be cool though. Hunk, what do you hope to be?”

“Nothing much on my mind at the moment, I work at the garage for now, once I get the money I’ll hopefully be building space shuttles and rockets. I sorta enjoy cooking as a hobby as well.” Hunk gladly answered, a smile on his face as he did. Lance felt a swell of pride at his friend, his smart and creative friend.

“Yeah man, this guy can take apart and put together an engine again in a little under twenty minutes!” Lance gushed out, smiling at Keith’s face turning into one of awe, Hunk humbly blushing and shrugging.

“Okay Hunk, what’s your family like?” Keith asked again.

“I got two mums and two sisters, one little and one older. I still have a dad, but him and my birth mum divorced when I was ten, a couple years later mum met Eukaria, and they married last year! I love them all, we’re pretty close.” Hunk smiled at that, and Lance couldn't help but think of his own family at that.

“My family is huge, I’m the middle of six siblings including me, three boys, three girls including the twins, and my parents. It’s pretty cool, and my mum makes the best garlic knots and tostones.” Lance remembered fondly. They both glanced at Keith expectantly.

“Me? I was an orphan, I never knew my mom, but my dad raised me until he died of a gunshot back when I was five, back in Texas. After that it was orphanages an' foster homes, trust me, I've been all around the states, even to Australia once, no-one really wanted me I guess. When I was stuck in Perth an' th' family I was stayin' with didn't want me anymore, they got a call from the states, from a Japanese woman an' her son...I was adopted by Shiro’s family, an' they were the first family I was fostered to who actually liked me? I mean, I was closed off for few weeks, but they respected that, an' they were kind an' patient...Sh-Shiro is like a brother to me, an' Aiko is like a mother to me, an' I really love them--fuck, I’ll never see them again, and I...love them, they’re my family too, my real family,” Keith sighed, a pained expression crossing his face for a second before faltering. “Anyway, I still can’t believe this is happening. And Lance? You’re a terrible driver.”

As if on cue, the car took a deep lurch to the left, and two screams filled the car, followed by Lance’s screams of joy. It was gonna be a long trip, just Hunk, Lance, Ghosty McGhostface and a rotting waterlogged corpse.

-

It was all going well until they approached the border.

The sun was shining and there was barely any wind on this day. The houses slowly disappeared until they were riding through the open desert, with the red dust getting into every nook and cranny and the road stretching out for miles.

Lance had put on a pair of sunglasses even, and both him and Hunk had a thin sheen of sweat on their brows. The windows were all down, and Lance even drove with an arm over the car door, tapping his nails against the warm metal, the radio playing some Kylie Minogue song with a catchy tune.

To be honest, they were sorta expecting police sirens to be wailing and red and blue lights flashing. The stench from the car was questionable at least and at the same time, both Lance and Hunk felt their hearts lurch into their throats.

“Shit...that’s gonna make my whole day.” Lance said in an effort to lighten the mood.

“Well boys, I’ll see you all in Hell, nice meetin' ya'll.” Keith deadpanned.

“Hey Hunk, what if we just speed off an’ lose ‘em?” Lance piped up. Hunk cringed and shook his head.

“Bad move man, at least if we comply they won’t be as mad.”

Hunk had a point, and Lance reluctantly agreed.

Lance inhaled deeply and held Hunk’s hand, thankful when he gave it a small squeeze. The entire car seemed silent when Lance smoothly pulled over, the wailing stopped but the lights still flashed.

“Lance, we got this, we just gotta play it cool an' act as innocent as we can.” Hunk said in a hushed tone, glancing over to the rear view mirror.

“Okay.” Lance nodded back, weakly smiling.

Quick darting footsteps on gravel crunched next to the car, and Lance gulped deeply.

His fears were quickly dampened though, as a tall ginger haired man stared down at them from behind aviator sunglasses, hands folded on the roof of the car, his police badge looked to be polished regularly and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He looked more like a weird uncle than an officer to Lance.

“Well boys, not to be too nosy, but it smells a something rather-- fishy happened in this car.” he drawled, trying to be intimidating. It wasn't working. He had a thick Kiwi accent, and his bright ginger moustache almost covered his mouth as he talked. In fact, Lance had to stifle a giggle at the sight.

“Uh...what?” Lance sheepishly asked back, earning a light slap on the side of the face from Keith that he tried not to flinch from.

“Well, you know, the smell. From your car. It stinks a lot like something died in there, don't you think?” The policeman retorted, pulling off his glasses and hanging them in the crook of his top. With the glasses off, they could see that he had bright blue eyes with small patches of vitiligo under them.

“Coran, we don’t want to come off as rude, but yes, the smell is...rather unpleasant.” Someone called out after him, and this time a woman, with dark skin and hair dyed silver in a tight bun, her face scrunched up as she got closer to the source of the stench. She also had patches of vitiligo, under her eyes and on her hands and she was very tall at over six foot, just like the other policeman, Coran.

“We, uh, we’re landscapers. Yeah, sorry ‘bout the smell, we’re just used to it. Y’see, it’s blood an’ bone, for fertiliser. Lance, why don’t you show them a bag?” Hunk filled in for Lance’s anxious silence. “And don’t worry about it, you-you’re not being rude!”

Lance breathed a sigh of relief and got out of the car, opening the back door and leaning over to grab a bag of blood and bone.

“We got more in the back, these are just th’ ones that couldn't fit in.”

“Landscapers? I don’t see any qualifications or contact details anywhere.” The policewoman asked suspiciously.

“Oh! It’s ah...here!” Lance pulled out his wallet, showing his employee card, trying to think of an excuse. “See? Palmer’s Gardening Supercentre. Jus’ using my personal car because th’...instore ute is out for repairs.”

“But isn't there more than enough Palmers landscapers in California?” She pressed.

“Well, yes, but this client-she’s picky. She already knows us, we’ve...worked on her gardens before she moved, an’ she’s loyal. Ten outta ten would date her if she wasn't already married, she’s just that loyal.” Lance excused, rather proud at himself for thinking all of that up on the spot.

“Okay, so what’s in the boot?” Coran asked, eyebrows raised as he looked rather impressed. “Might have to get you two to do my garden sometime, what about it Allura? Hm?”

“Just bags an’ bags of blood an’ bone. And we work by th’ hour, if you wanna know.” Lance added. And if this Coran really did want his gardens done, well, they had so many bags of blood and bone to use up, and they could do with the extra money. Lance deeply inhaled and slowly made his way over to the back of the car, praying that the body wouldn't be noticeable, as he popped it open.

Coran gagged at the smell, but seemed satisfied enough at the bags and bags of blood and bone.

“We’ve seen enough, y-you can close it now.” Coran said in a strained voice, and lance all too quickly slammed the boot back down. With it open, it was even worse, and if Lance could somehow disinfect his nostrils, he would.

“I see, but you still need a ticket.” Coran chirped, completely recovered from the stink bomb from before, pulling a pen and notepad out from his breastpocket and scribbling down a few words.

Lance and Hunk shared a look of disbelief. “Woah, okay, why a ticket? We've declared what we're doin', we got evidence. Okay, were we over the speed limit? Because my foot has this sorta-"

“Nope!” Coran interrupted, popping his 'p' and spinning on his heel to tap the right side of the car's bonnet. “Broken headlight! Thought you could get away from us, hm? Well that's an eighty dollar fine!” Coran crowed and handed Lance a yellow ticket made from almost translucent paper, with handwriting in elegant blue ink.

“We thank you for your cooperation though, but get it fixed as soon as possible.” Allura smiled softly at them. “Farewell!”

And just like that, her and Coran were gone, leaving Lance in the literal dust, holding a ticket as his face paled in disbelief.

They literally got away with murder, and right under an officer's nose.

Lance popped the door back open and sat down in the driver's seat, still as a statue with a gobsmacked look on his face.

“That really worked?” Hunk broke the quiet in a small voice.

“Eeyup.” Lance said back. They could hear Keith wheezing in the back, laughing to the point where he sounded like a cat dying.

“Y-ya almost got arrested! Fuck, I was this close to--" Keith almost seemed to be laughing entirely out of disbelief, and when they looked back, he had a wide grin on his face but a few tears were leaking out of the corners of his almond eyes. He wheezed a few more times and tilted his head back over the seat, breathing deeply. “Fuck, you guys--how did you even do it?”

Hunk hummed and shrugged. “Dumb luck.”

Lance managed to still his hands enough to not skid out onto the road.

-

It was night when they approached the border, and the first thing they did was pick the greasiest fast food place they could find and take the most calorie stuffed things on the menu. In other words, Lance had stuffed a McDonald's chicken burger inside a big mac, with a lemonade and fries on the side, Hunk just settling for a burger meal, Keith getting nothing, instead he just watched them from the backseat hungrily.

“Do ghosts even eat?” Hunk pondered, taking a sip of his milkshake.

“When Lance poured coffee through my mouth I could taste it just fine, it just ended up all over the floor.” Keith sighed back. Hunk had an idea and gave Lance a look, the other man clearly losing his battle with trying to get the equivalent of two burgers in his mouth. Hunk kicked open the car door with a sigh, cool air flooding in.

“Nice breeze up here, right?” Hunk commented as he got out of the car, leaning on the door with dinner on the roof.

They were parked on a clifftop, overlooking the city, lights of all colours flashing brightly against a deep purple sky, dry dust on the sides of Lance’s car.

Lance did the same as Hunk, turning on the radio quietly as Hunk fed Keith by dropping bite-sized bits of burger over his mouth. It would have been a comical sight if Lance didn't feel so guilty. He put down his burger on the car roof and pulled out his phone, searching up a cheap motel for the night, the cheaper the better. Two minutes later he found one, at thirty-five dollars a night containing a bunk bed with the bottom bunk as a double bed, a small couch and nothing else. The main thing which stuck out was that the carpark was sheltered, concealing it from any passer-byer. He handed the phone over to Hunk.

“You think this'll work?” Lance asked.

Hunk scrolled through it, nodding with his bottom lip stuck out. Keith even leaned over to take a peek.

“Don't see why not, looks good!” Hunk chirped over.

“I would pay to watch you two fistfight over the bigger bed.” Keith stated with a completely straight face. Hunk and Lance at once stared with wide eyes at Keith, standing there with his arms crossed on the car roof.

“Nah, Hunk's my right hand man, he can have the double bed.” Lance replied smoothly with a wink at Hunk.

“Aw c'mon Lance, if you want the big bed, I'm totally cool on the top bunk.” Hunk said with his hands up.

“Dude, it's cool, I wanna stay on top! My brother always had the top bunk back when we shared a room, y'know?”

“Lance, you're the best.”

“Oh, I know.” Lance finished, mirroring Hunk's smile until they both snorted out laughing. When Lance wiped his eyes, through the blurred lights and the darkness, he could see even Keith was catching on and smiling fondly at them.

“Hey Keith, you ever tried a McGangBang?” Lance said with a smirk, holding up the remaining half of his burger.

“A what? D-did I actually hear that right?” Keith asked back, growing flustered over it. Lance could just see Hunk just silently mouthing 'don't' out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh yes, you heard that right. The legendary McGangBang! Listen to that, even the name makes your arteries beg for mercy an' ass dimple.”

“Ass dimple? What the he-"

“Listen buddy, ya wanna try some of this or not? The only good part about being dead is that none of th' shit I just mentioned even applies to ya, so what'll it be?” Lance egged him on, leaning over the roof and waving the remaining half of the burger in Keith's face. “Why hello, I'm mister McGangBang, put me inside you-"

“Okay, okay, I'll try it, jus' how many innuendos can ya even make out of food?” Keith relented, stifling a snort as he opened his mouth expectantly. Lance made a face in triumph and pulled off a large chunk, tossing it at Keith's face.

“So you've lost the McGangBang virginity, hm?” Lance joked with a cocky smile.

Keith scrunched his face and spat on the ground, dropping to his knees to spit a few more times.

“Oh damn, you alright man?” Lance asked, jumping up to lay his torso over the car roof to peer down at Keith hacking and spitting at the tyres.

“Keith? Oh god, did we kill you a second time!?” Hunk squeaked, kneeling down next to him,

Keith wiped his face and sneered up at Lance, a pout forming on his face. “I'm never eatin' your shit again.” he deadpanned.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Can't have been that bad, right?” Keith flipped him off. “Okay, okay, sorry for talkin' ya into it, but it's your fault ya didnt like it!”

Hunk hummed in agreement. “Yeah Keith, he does have a fair point.”

Keith grumbled, knowing that Hunk and Lance were gonna win this argument. “Whatever, but Lance? I need Hunk to back me up on whatever ya try to poison me with next. Hunk's taste is better.”

Hunk blushed a little at the compliment, while Lance drummed his nails on the roof of the car.

“Okay okay, try not to poison Keith's lily weak stomach, got it, an' shouldn't we be getting to this motel?”

That got everyone to their feet.

-

The motel was good enough, basic as a white girl in a Starbucks, but it was good enough. Just as Lance conceded, Hunk got the bottom bunk (and the bigger bed) while he got the top bunk. The blinds at his left were slanted ever so slightly, enough for streams of soft yellow city light to place jagged strips over the light green sheets. Police sirens wailed in the distance, and it only added to the tension in Lance's chest. Occasionally he'd hear the click of high heels on the concrete accompanied by heavier footsteps, but other than that the place had a heavy feeling of loneliness dragged along with it. He rolled over and curled up on his side, pulling the sheets up to his chest.

“Hey Hunk?” Lance whispered in the dark, not long after he heard a shuffle.

“Yeah?” Hunk whispered back.

“Y-you still up?”

This was turning into one of their two am text messages, almost word-for-word.

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.” Lance gulped before continuing, “I know this is gon' sound weird but…”

Hunk shifted again, like he was listening closer. “Yes?”

Lance squeezed his eyes shut and sighed deeply, “Can I share your bed with you?”

Hunk was silent for a moment, but he laughed lightly. “Man, we haven't shared a bed since we were teenagers.” he reminisced. “I warmed it up for ya.”

Lance smiled and pushed his sheets off, shimmying down the mattress to slowly get down the ladder, flinching as his feet connected with the cold linoleum. He looked over his shoulder to see Hunk on his back with his hands behind his head tilted up to see him. It didn't matter that Lance was just in boxers and an oversized grey cotton shirt, Hunk was shirtless and in shorts. Lance crawled over the creaking mattress, and with his back to the wall, curled up next to him, Hunk hooked an arm over his shoulders so Lance could rest his head on his bicep.

“I-I wish this never happened.” Lance said quietly, sinking into Hunk's side. Hunk was warm, and he was the best friend Lance could ever ask for.

“Me too...I guess that we jus' gotta hope for the best, right?”

Lance smiled and glanced up at Hunk, who was talking with his eyes closed peacefully.

“Thanks Hunk.”

Hunk hummed softly in response, and Lance heard another soft groan, this time from Hunk's other side. Lance cracked an eye open to see Keith curled up into Hunk's side as well, resting his head in the crook of his neck.

“Hey Keith, do ghosts sleep?” Lance whispered to him.

“I dunno, bu' this's nice.” he mumbled back, resting his knee on Hunk's hip like a baby koala. Lance smiled and didn't disturb them any more. This was nice.

“G'night guys.”

“Night, Lance.”

-

The next morning was get-up-and-go from the moment they woke up. Literally, they just grabbed the keys, put on a shirt and pants and were out of the door and in the car.

Hunk was driving as Lance searched through satellite maps on his phone for a secluded place to dump the body. Lance went through endless coves and creeks, trying to find a place well hidden enough with flowing water that would go out to the deep sea. He scrolled through the maps with a bored expression, eventually settling on a small cove, one on an unsealed road.

“Hey Hunk, let’s give this one a try?”

-

The coves was, to say the least, small and secluded. A tiny bay barely a minute’s walk from end to end. The place had more shells than sand, and was flanked by two sandrock walls, tree roots digging into the crumbling dirt and rock. The water itself was clear enough, and the next bay closest around would be a half hour’s drive away.

“Y’think this’s th’ one?” Lance asked, rubbing his arms to ward off the early morning chill. It was still early in the morning, and the sun was just breaking the dawn, rosy-fingered and fresh.

“I think so.” Hunk replied, digging his hands into his pockets. They were both barefoot, standing side-by-side in the water up to the middle of their shins. Hunk yawned and glanced over at Lance, who met his gaze with a weak smile. “We should probably dump th’ body an’ leave.”

A figure walked in between them, and both their fields of vision were obstructed by a messy black mullet. Keith gave them both a shrug and sat down in the water. Still completely clothed, between them.

“I can barely feel it.” he quietly said, spreading his legs in the water and leaning back on his hands, dragging his fingers through the sand. “It’s a nice place though. If anything, thanks for pickin’ a nice place.”

Lance felt another small push of guilt, but it wasn't as hard hitting as yesterday. “It’s the least we can do.”

Lance waded back through the water and shook the sand off his feet before heading back up to the car, Hunk following closely behind him. Shit, they didn't even have any gloves or anything.

It took a while for the blood and bone to be moved to the backseat of the car, and the smell was even worse than yesterday. They each took an end of the tarpaulin and jerked it towards them.

“Okay, on th’ count of three: one, two, three!” Hunk counted, and with a grunt they heaved the body out of the back, the middle of the rolled up material sinking to the ground, so it grazed along the concrete and grass. Lance gagged at the putrid smell and almost dropped it, but his mama didn't raise a quitter. They did have to lightly rest the body on the sand for a few seconds though, because even though Keith was shorter than them, he was far more heavier than he looked.  
It was nothing but relief when the body floated in the water. A murky film gathered around the water it touched but other than that, everything was fine.

“So this is it, right?” Lance said with a weak snort.

“Hope so.” Hunk replied, rolling up his shorts a little more as they got into deeper water, but he declared that useless and just waded straight in.

The water was up to their mid-thighs, and the film on the water glinted in the sun and clung to their clothes, which made them both cringe a bit. The body just floated on the water like driftwood, and they pushed it until the cool water crept up to their waists.

“Why don't you two get it around th’ other side of th’ cliff?” Lance and Hunk both snapped around to see Keith behind them, not even making a ripple in the surface of the water as he waded towards them. “It’ll keep it out of sight for a bit, if y’just leave it out here it’ll eventually get washed back in. Oh, an’ everyone would be able to see it.”

He did raise a fair point, and Hunk nodded.

“We can always snag it on some branch or something, not a bad idea, thanks Keith.” Hunk proposed. Keith brightened up at that with a faint smile. They were now up to their chests in the water, though it was just above Keith’s shoulders.

Lance grumbled at the thought of getting completely wet but not getting involved with the police was far more important.

To the left, a cliff gutted out of the landscape, and if they stayed close to the edge they might just execute this plan perfectly.

Lance and Hunk were on tiptoes as they pushed the tarpaulin wrapped body through the water, leaving little ripples and slick in it's wake.

“Hey, on th' bright side, burial at sea, huh?“ Lance lightly chuckled, attempting to lighten the grim mood.

“Yeah, and I mean, it's quite nice here: not too many people, no police--it's like the perfect spot, right Keith?” Hunk added with a weak smile.

“S'pose.” Keith answered, now swimming next to them lazily, and it was a little unnerving to see how his hair still stayed fluffy despite the water and how his clothes still looked dry. Just the pros and cons of being dead, Lance supposed. “But I would have rather be cremated, honestly.”

“Well sorry to burst your bubble, but I think a full-out pyre is just gonna attract attention we really don't need.” Lance said. “Plus why would you even want to be cremated anyway? That's like being burnt at a thousand degree--oh, wait.”

“For one thing, a grave is expensive as hell, y'know how much a simple gravestone and a pit in th' ground costs? Almost seven thousand bucks, an' I really don't want my family to be fishing around their pockets for something like that.” Keith quipped quickly, then sighed. “Plus, my ashes can be put anywhere, and it's gonna be just a small amount. Also I heard you can get the carbon or something removed from your ashes and be made into diamonds, how cool is that?”

Hunk gave them an excited look, eyebrows raised. “Guys that is actually really cool, imagine havin' a diamond ring or somethin' made from your own body...wonder who I'd give a diamond to. OH! I'd get three small diamonds, one for my mum, one for my other mum, an' one for Lance!”

Hunk flashed Lance a smile, and Lance felt himself flush at the flattery. Hunk was too good for this world, even dripping wet and smelling like dead body, he was far too good. Hell, he was literally helping Lance push a floating body through the bay, and not everyone would have the guts to do that, much less get all caught up in his sticky situation. Keith was now swimming ahead of them, floating on his back and sculling the water. The water was up to Lance and Hunk's chins. Hunk suddenly stopped and squinted off to a blurry brown thing resting on the side of the cliff.

“Lance, there's a fallen tree over there. Think this might be our best bet?”

Lance squinted that what was supposed to be a tree in the distance. The bark was stripped away from the bleached wood, and it was decorated with colourful garbage and neon fishing line tangled in the otherwise bare branches. The tree was long, around as long as a bus, and if they could just get the body wedged or hooked under a branch, that was it. This whole shitstorm was over.

“It's perfect.” Lance replied with a soft smile at Hunk, who mirrored it. “Keith? Whadoya think?”

Lance looked over the body, but Keith was already freestyling his way over to the tree, and Lance had to take that as an okay sign. “I'll take that as a yes.”

The two continued to push the body to the tree, just around fifty metres away. Lance could feel slimy weeds curl around his feet and small curious fish swim around the body, the bravest ones bumping into the plastic.

The rock of the cliff felt smooth, and their feet seemed to glide over it, and in barely any time the tree was right in front of them, Keith already having climbed up it was was resting on the thick trunk, his hand under his chin and the other trailing in the water. The branches formed a cage around the trunk, and it truly was the most perfect place to get rid of a body.

“It ain't the best, but it'll do.” Keith shrugged, and lightly ran his fingertips over the plastic, letting his fingers linger for a bit before retracting them. “Okay, I'm ready.”

For a brief flash, Keith looked just so...depressed, for want of a better word, looking vulnerable and downcast staring down at his own body. Lance couldn't imagine it, he would probably feel the same if he was in Keith's position.

Hunk took control of the floating corpse and threaded it through the branches, among the colourful plastic and the dried red leaves. If Lance concentrated, he could just be sleeping, floating on a bed of water and protected by the branches that cocooned around him, almost like sleeping beauty in some morbid way.

Once he was finished, Hunk took a deep sigh and stood back to admire their work. All was quiet, apart from the gentle lapping of the water against the rock and wood, the body rocking in the water with the waves. Keith was lying on his back now on the trunk, looking just so blissful and thankful this was over. Lance closed his eyes and leaned into Hunk's side, just ever so thankful that this shitstorm was finally over. For it barely being a couple of days, it felt like a couple of weeks.

The inky water glistened with dawn's soft rays, and it brought a fresh wave of warmth, even though the water was chilly Lance felt warm and hollow.

“We should go.” Lance quietly croaked.

“We should.” Hunk agreed. “You comin' Keith?”

Keith opened his eyes just a crack and peered over at them.

“Doesn't look like I'm gonna descend into hell anytime soon.” He said dryly, swinging himself back over the trunk and into the water steadily. And still the water refused to ripple or move for him.

This time instead of trying to walk, they just swam lazily, kicking out from the cliff so their feet couldn't touch the rocks and weeds at the bottom of the bay.

“Hey Hunk! Think fast!” Lance yelled out and smacked his hand on the surface of the water, splashing Hunk, who wiped his face and grinned mischievously back.

“WATERFIGHT!” Hunk yelled back and kicked his feet on the water, sending a volcano of water on his friend, who enthusiastically retaliated.

“Keith, get on my shoulders, we gon' take 'im down!” Lance called out to Keith, who was currently getting splashed by both sides, unable to actually manipulate water himself.

“But I can't even splash.”

“Pfft, who cares? It's the thought that counts, now get on my shoulders or you're chicken!”

Keith just grinned back, good thing he was almost completely weightless, as Lance treaded water allowing him to climb on his shoulders. Lance was smart, for every splash and kick Keith made, Lance would mirror it, just like Keith would if he was still alive.

“Aw c'mon!” Hunk laughed back, shielding himself with a large hand, but he was grinning and splashing them back. Soon enough it was just three young fools laughing and splashing (or seizuring by the looks of it) in the water, twenty metres away from a rotting body.

With the current, they gradually drifted down back down to the bay, long since tired themselves out and just floating on the water peacefully.

All going good until another car pulled up next to theirs. Only ten metres from shore, two drenched men in their clothes out in the water would look very suspicious if they knew a body was a short swim from the shore.

Wait-men? More like two little boys.  
Lance and Hunk tilted their eyes to the car, almost paralysed with fear. This time, Lance knew it wasn't the chill of the water that made his heart stop.

Said car was a dirty white ute, two people got out who looked to be two men at the tail-end of middle age. They were wearing worn out cargo shorts and bright yellow vests over tank tops, grey stubble and tan lines on their arms and feet. A blue esky was in one of the men's hand, the other was piling a couple of fishing rods over their shoulder. Lance took one look and reached out for Hunk's shoulder, starting to tread water. Even Keith looked a little fearful.

“Hunk, what do we do? God, they're gonna find us out, man!” Lance hissed, struggling to peel his eyes away from the men, who even from this distance and their wide sunglasses, Lance could see their scrunched up and confused faces.

“I dunno, maybe we-ah, we just pretend we're--no, that won't work-" Hunk stammered.

“What won't work!?” Lance cut off, and his throat felt dry as he went into full panic mode.

“I, uh, just say we're practising swimmin' for a swimathon or something!”

“Wait, guys, just pretend you're gay.” Keith deadpanned.

What? Lance and Hunk furrowed their brows and gave the blank-faced man a confused and suspicious stare. Keith just shrugged.

“Listen, hear it from me, these are elderly white men: early sixties an' they're carrying fishin' rods, probably gonna go down a few beers at the pub and brag about that 'massive catch' they totally got. If they see anything even remotely related to young people and their christian-destroying agendas, they will back off like you're the plague. Remember, these types of guys are talky, and if you even mention something as trivial as the weather they will suck you in and hours will pass and by that time the body will have washed up.” Keith recited, almost as if he knew exactly what he was talking about, almost like something like this happened to him once. “Look, you don't have to be all over each other, just--hold hands or hug or somethin'. Look, this will work, trust me. And you should be getting out of here as fast as you can so...”

It was worth a shot, and Keith did seem quite informed about this, and they had nothing much to lose. Hunk sighed and started treading water.

“Okay, whatever we do, we cannot make eye contact.” Hunk firmly stated. Lance nodded sharply in response and they started swimming slowly back to shore, the men already at the shoreline and baiting up their rods, as if they were waiting for Lance and Hunk to just get out of the water.

Once their feet could touch the sand, they started wading into shore side-by-side, looking down at the sand and trying to ignore the eyes hidden behind wide sunglasses.

“'Ay! How're you two goin'? Bit early to be paddlin', eh?” One of the men called out, shooting them a smile with a couple of teeth absent.

“Huh? Oh yeah, it's-" Lance started and reached out for Hunk's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure himself. “-perfect, honestly, the water is gorgeous at this time.”

God, that was fucking awful. Lance was cringing at his words, but he managed to crack a half smile at the men. Relief got hold of him when the man closest to them glanced down at their hands, and with how tightly Lance was holding it (he'll pay for Hunk's broken fingers later) they looked a little...comforted?

“Hey sonny, you alright there?”

Lance gulped and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the water, expecting a tarpaulin wrapped body to come floating by any minute now.

“Peachy. “ Lance choked back. The men passed a worried look to each other.

“You boys honestly okay?” One of them asked gently, taking off his sunglasses to look at them with genuinely worried eyes.

“Y-yeah, nothing's wrong.” Hunk started. “We're just l-"

“Gay?”

Well, there is is. They knew how to drop a bomb.

But the men laughed. And they also looked to be just so relieved. Quite frankly, Lance was just honestly so confused, and by the looks of it, Hunk was too.

“Listen 'ere, we won't tell if y'don't.” the one without the sunglasses laughed and slipped his glasses back on. Keith had stepped in front of them and was frantically motioning for them to play along.

“Y-yeah, gotcha.” Hunk flashed a thumbs up sign, and to prove their point, walked back up to the car with their hands still holding. And when they got in none of them said a word. Even Keith was just sitting in the back wide eyed. Then Lance burst out laughing.

“Keith! Oh my god you were wrong about everythin'!” Lance wheezed, laughing and wheezing until his throat and ribs hurt, and it was infectious, catching onto Hunk who was almost in tears with how hard he was laughing.

“Keith, I'm so so sorry, but yeah you were totally wrong. And I thought you knew what you were talkin' about!” Hunk chuckled.

Keith was just sitting in the back wide-eyed, like he was told something and suddenly his whole life was a lie. Just staring into space.

“How th' hell was I supposed to know about that?” Keith mumbled quietly.

“Yeah Keith, where did ya even know all that from? Or were ya just makin' it all off th' top of ya head?” Lance howled.

“Personal experience, never trust those sorta guys.” Keith darkly replied. “Anyway, y'know how wet you're getting the seats, right?”

To be honest? They didn't care, and once they were out of the carpark, Hunk floored it, eager to get as far away from the bay as possible. They wouldn't be needing to go back anytime soon. Hopefully. So why did Lance feel so sick in the gut?

-

The next part of their master plan? Head somewhere with a whole bunch of people, that way if someone was onto them, it would only be a million times harder to find them. It was around a quarter to nine in the morning, and they were still damp, but this time they were damp and pulling into an empty gas station.

“Remind me again why gas is so expensive? “Lance sighed, fishing through his wallet and pulling out a crumpled twenty.

“Corporate greed that due to our supposedly good economy, prices are increased.” Hunk relayed back, wiping his eyes and taking the money from Lance, adding a couple of tens to the bundle. “You want anything?”

Lance shrugged. “Coffee? The strongest they got.”

“Gotcha, how 'bout you, Keith?”

“Milk.” Keith deadpanned back like it was nothing.

Hunk raised an eyebrow. “Plain or?”

“If they have chocolate milk that would be great thanks.” Keith faintly smiled back. Oh well, let the ghost have his share as well, right?

Hunk nodded and got out of the car, keeping the door open. The morning was bright and warm, and the sun was over the horizon. The clouds were lightly dusted with gold and the sky was a pure blue, the grasses glinting with dew and the concrete cracked and marked with black skids. Lance sighed and leaned back in his seat, glancing over at Keith who was sprawled over the backseat, who caught his eye. They just looked at each other, holding contact but not saying anything.

“Why won't you go?” Lance muttered quietly. Keith met Lance's eyes, and he looked rather sad, like he was longing for something just out of reach.

“I should...but I can't. It's funny, the one place I'm supposed to be is the place I can't be.” Keith sighed, breaking away from their locked state. “I just wanna go home. If I could I'd just--waltz up to the front gate and tell my friends an' parents 'hey, you're pretty good, I'm sorry I've gotten a bit distant since th' new job, I'm sorry I never made it home, I'm sorry I--sorry I didn't tell you I loved you as much as I shoulda.'” Keith took a deep breath before continuing. “I thought I'd be able to tell them why I'm never comin' home, or at least just told them all the...all th' things I honestly shoulda told them long ago. They say you should live every day like it's your last, right? Well guess who didn't.”

It wasn't the exact answer Lance was looking for, now that he thought about it he probably came off as rude. Live everyday like it's your last. And here was proof of the fact that if you didn't, it wouldn't be pretty. Keith was stuck. If anything like those ghost stories they were told about as kids were true, he literally couldn't leave because of his regrets and the things he never said. How sad would that be? A life stuck with the one who ran you down early one morning.

“Hey Lance? What would you do if you knew you were gonna die tomorrow?”

A billion thoughts rushed through his head. What would he do? Would he blow off all his money on a night out? Would he go do the things he had never done?

“One minute.” Lance stated and got out of the car, pulling his phone out of his pocket. It was on thirty percent, and he only had five minutes of calling time, but it would be enough. He pulled his green jacket a little closer around him and scrolled through his contact list, finding a familiar number and pressing call, the number beeping twice before going through.

“Hey mami, remember how I told you I'd help out with your flower patch a couple years ago?”

-

California was packed. People were bustling all over the place, muscled men in tank tops and board shorts and tanned ladies in daisy dukes and lace tops. Cars that tightly packed the sides of the road and jaywalkers running out at the last second. Lance's coffee, despite being the 'strongest on the menu' was weak for him, and it barely did anything, but it was warm. After his small conversation with his mami, he honestly felt a little better. It didn't even matter what they were talking about, but he was just happy that he got to talk to her and tell her thanks.

They had just abruptly braked for the fifth time this morning, at a young couple running across the road, and Lance wrinkled his nose at the Reese's Pieces that just fell at his feet.

“Damn, the yellow ones are my favourite.“ Lance huffed, but he picked them up anyway and shoved them back into his mouth, Hunk snickering a quick 'gross' under his breath. They had to thank Keith for letting Lance keep his Reese's Pieces, and they sorta made it into a game: Throw Food Items at Keith's face- fifty points for mouth, minus five for nose and cheek, and minus ten for eyes. Guess who got minus forty?

They were passing a square of sorts, filled with ice-cream venders, bathrooms and a busy information centre. It was all going fine until Keith screeched from the back.

“Guys? Wait, guys, please, stop the car!” Keith yelled out, gripping Hunk's shoulders from the backseat, even though he was weightless the chill and zap of energy was there, forcing the car to brake sharply and skid over to the side of the road, tyres smashing into the kerb.

“Keith!? What th' hell man, y'almost got us killed!” Lance snapped back, rubbing the side of his head with his teeth grit.

“No! Please, listen to me!” Keith panicked and kicked himself out of the car, stepping in front of it, looking like he had all but (ironically) seen a ghost.

Hunk and Lance shared a confused look, but got out after him, ignoring the disgruntled looks many of the passer-byers shot their way.

“There, right there, y-you see?” Keith pointed, eyes wide and slack jawed at two figures in a shop window who looked to be leaving. A tall broad shouldered man accompanied by what looked like a young girl, fourteen or fifteen maybe? Or maybe she was one of those girls who looked decades younger than what they actually were, hard to tell from the people in the shop cutting them off from view.

Lance squinted and looked a little closer, prying for details when they stepped out into the entrance of the shop. The man was broad shouldered, with an undercut and messy greying hair (despite looking to be in his thirties), wearing a light black jacket and blue jeans. Lance felt dread stab him in the gut when he noticed his face: he looked to be Japanese, with a strong jawline and black stubble, a broken nose with a distinct pale pink scar running across his cheeks, and grey eyes. The short girl next to him had messy copper-brown hair in an awkward lob, hacked away probably by her own hand, pale skin splattered with freckles and a large pair of oversized glasses. A green and white striped tank top made her look a little taller, and her dark grey cargo shorts were overflowing with god knows what. A large military green army bag was strapped to her back and she held a bunch of blurry photographs in her hands, and with the worried conversation they seemed to be exchanging, every one of Lance's instincts screamed at him to get his sorry ass out of there.

They were looking for Keith, they had to be. Why else would they be lurking around where he presumably died?

“Oh Jesus Christ, Lance, that's Shiro.” Hunk breathed, just as gobsmacked as Lance.

“Sh-Shiro? Katie?” Keith murmured, lips trembling as he looked ahead at the two figures in the window of the crowded information centre, looking like he would burst into tears at any moment.

Lance couldn't drag his eyes away, instead he watched them talk and study the pictures in the girl's-no, Katie's hands. For once he couldn't move, he couldn't think, he couldn't speak. He was frozen.

And Shiro looked straight at Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasnt entirely satisfied with this chapter, and was a bit scared I was boring you guys to death, so some feedback would be very much appreciated, please tell me if Im boring you or if something can be changed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance and Hunk meet Shiro and Katie at the worst possible time. The deed is done, this is where everything goes back to normal now, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter, partly because the next chapter is going to be very big. Also, please read the updated tags! There is frequent talk of drug usage in this chapter, and a lot of sexual talk, for those who find the subject uncomfortable. And there's now music here! Linked in the chapter breaks!

The moment seemed to drag out for far longer than it should have: a damp and dirty man and a pilot with a prosthetic arm. But Lance knew that those grey eyes he stared wide-eyed at were looking right back at him.

“Lance, we should go.” Hunk quietly encouraged, nudging his shoulder. This Katie girl also seemed to be doing the same as Hunk, saying something hushed to her friend. “Seriously, Lance, we have to go.”

But Lance couldn't move, his heart was still in his chest and his feet refused to move. Right now it was just him and a complete stranger he knew everything about just locking their eyes on each other. Then Shiro started walking towards him.

“Fuck, Lance, we really have to-" Hunk started, basically pleading at this point, but was cut off as the unlikely pair wandered up to them.

Lance gulped and stared at the pair. It was hard to do, not without getting hit with another bowling ball of guilt. If anything, Shiro looked just as anxious as Lance, almost desperate, while Katie looked determined. Up close, Lance could see Katie's chipped copper nail polish on her short nails and the rose gold ring on her middle finger, and Shiro had crow's feet around his eyes and a cut at the corner of his lip.

“Hey, I'm Katie, this's Shiro. We're currently looking for this man, you seen 'im anywhere?” Katie gruffly asked and handed them the pile of blurry photographs in her hand, and Lance shakily took them.

 “I'm Lance, this is Hunk, an' this is--we're just passin' through town.” Lance almost said Keith, but managed to stop himself just in time. Speaking of Keith, Keith was standing right between Lance and Hunk, just staring speechless at his brother and friend. He looked to be restraining himself from just propelling into them, staring at two people very clearly close to him, and yet they couldn't even see him.

“Okay, but have you seen this man is the question. He's around this tall, clearly gay but-" Katie smirked but cut herself off with a sharp glare from Shiro. “-and he has a very distinct mullet. He was supposed to be in Nevada for a couple of days an' here for one, but he apparently never turned up at th' hostel he was supposed to stay at an' he hasn't been answering any of our calls or anything, an' it's just--it's been two days and we're...we're just worried, alright?”

 “Aw c'mon.” Keith groaned and crossed his arms, but he had a sad smile on his face and his voice wavered a little, he was just that happy to actually see them. “No-one just looks gay, right?”

 With Hunk and Keith peering over, Lance shifted through the photographs, taking the time to take in every frame and every detail. The photographs looked to be from a CCTV camera, they were just that grainy. Were these taken with a potato or something?

 “These ones were from Nevada, and after these he just disappears.” Shiro explained.

 Hunk and Lance actually knew the places that Keith was walking to and from. One photograph was of him getting off a bus at around seven pm, at a bus stop right outside a small supermarket. The next was one with him and a mother with a baby talking over what had to be a map (who the hell even carries around paper maps these days though?) and one was what really struck a chord with the two friends: of Keith waiting patiently outside a club at nine o'clock, checking his phone. Not just any club. More like the one club in town with a reputation for being the second home to sleazes and druggies. One time a dead hooker was found rotting away in a black trash bag in the alleyway between that club and the bar next door. Lance discreetly peered at Keith from the corner of his eye, who caught him looking at the ground with his arms folded in what looked like...embarrassment?

 “Tell you later.” Keith whispered, avoiding eye contact.

 The next photograph though? This time he was with someone, someone wearing an oversized khaki jacket with many pockets and black skinny jeans with frizzy dreadlocks spilling over his back and shoulders, with a hippie beard that looked just as frizzy as his hair. The friends both swore they heard Kill Bill sirens in their heads as they left without even going into the club. Hunk was the one to shoot Keith a frown. Drugs? Really? Because when Lance ran Keith over he did _not_ look high out of his mind, a little dead maybe, but that wasn't the point.

“And who is this man exactly?” Hunk asked.

 “His name's Keith, Keith Gyeong, an' he's twenty six. That man has been identified as a known drug dealer, and if Keith's gotten into any drug related business--" Shiro faltered and gulped. “Well, we hope he hasn't. He's my brother an' Katie's best friend, we really want him safe, I'm sure you understand.”

 The last photograph was made from a slightly different material and it was larger, but it was the one that hit Lance and Hunk the most. Just a plain 'missing person' poster, with a thousand dollar reward and a brief description with a few numbers printed under a colour photograph of Keith on a couch, smiling up at the camera with a large fluffy black and white cat on his lap, even a faint shadow of (presumably) Shiro was cast over the sky blue couch, and sunlight streamed in from the window behind him. It looked fairly recent too, as if it could have been taken a little less than a week ago.

“So have you seen him?” Shiro asked again.

Shit. What do they say? Technically, what would Lance say?

“Y-yeah, yeah I've seen him before I think. I was...drivin' home from work at two am, an' I think I drove past him-"

“Wait, where did you see him!?” Katie yelled, patting her pockets and pulling out a slip of paper and a chewed up pen, Shiro also bolted upright.

“He was...ah, Hitchcock Ave?” Lance sheepishly replied. He couldn't lie, not to them. “Back in Nevada by th' way.”

Lance looked to Hunk for reassurance, who nodded once with an unreadable expression on his face. “It's a long road by the way, an' there's no cameras in it, but yeah, that's where he saw him last.”

 “Quiznak, thank you so much--uh, can we exchange numbers? Please, if you think of anything else, anything at all, that would be great,” Katie gushed back, unlocking her phone and handing it to Lance, who hesitated before tapping his number in. It wasn't even the usual fake number consisting of 420 repeated three times, but his real number. Katie smiled and took back her phone, stuffing it in her pocket. “By th' way, how do _you_ know that he saw him?” She chewed out, raising her eyebrow at Hunk.

“Lance told me he saw...some guy with a, I quote, 'I think the eighties wants their stupid mullet hair back'.” Hunk smoothly replied, looking over to Lance and Keith, who appeared thankful and ruffled.

 “Okay, okay, don't twist your panties-yes, I may have said that, but please I was just jokin', right?” Lance anxiously chuckled back.

 Shiro just raised his hand in a 'don't worry about it' gesture. “It's fine, we've all joked about the hair at some point.”

 Damn, they were both really nice, which made lying to them all the harder.

“So if we see him again, we'll call, right?” Lance asked, pocketing his phone back.

 “Yeah, that would be great, thank you.” Katie affirmed. “See ya 'round, we've got some posters to put up.”

“Yes, thank you...by the way, when did you break your nose?” Shiro asked, looking directly at Lance. 

Lance tensed up at that. “Oh, this thing? Uhm...three days ago? I jus' got unlucky.” Lance laughed nervously. With all of this happening, he actually forgot that his nose was broken, he could still breathe through it just fine, it just felt a little funky.

“Hold on, I could reset it, if you like.” Shiro offered, dead serious. “Trust me, I've taken courses.”

Hunk stared wide-eyed at Lance, surprised that this was even happening, while Keith looked a little embarrassed.

 “Yeah? Yeah, okay, jus' be quick.” Lance agreed. Katie looked a little squeamish, and Shiro cupped the side of Lance's face with one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose with the other firmly, and it ached.

“Three. Two. One-" Shiro started, and with a sharp _crack_ Lance flinched back. Fuck, that hurt a lot more than he imagined it would but...now that he could feel it, his nose was actually straight, and the large ridge was barely a little bump. His beautiful face was saved!

 “Woah...thanks.” Lance said, still awestruck that this actually just happened.

“No need to thank me, you've already helped us.” Shiro replied with a smile, pulling Katie into a side-hug, to which she smiled a thanks at Lance and Hunk.

Shiro waved them a quick good-bye and left with Katie, who plucked the photographs back, but left them with the 'Missing Person' leaflet. Well, they just did the one thing Lance never wanted to do. They missed their brother and friend, why else would they be searching for him so desperately? Lance looked up to see Keith just silently watch them walk away, still as a marble statue but with his eyes glassy and his jaw still slack, his hand holding onto Hunk's. 

“Hunk's right--we should go.” Keith breathed, and turned around back to the car. Hunk gave Lance a sympathetic look before getting back into the driver's seat. Once Katie and Shiro were out of sight, only then did Hunk pull them off the kerb and drive as far away from them as they could.

 

-

 

“So Keith, why were ya meetin' up with some hippie who was _clearly_ a drug dealer?” Lance challenged. His wrist hung over the steering wheel as he drove along the desert highway. Him and Hunk had a system sorted out, they now took turns driving simply because they were both just so tired.

Hunk hummed in agreement, and twisted his head to look over at Keith. Keith almost looked to be flushing a little, cheeks tinged red and his lip slightly twisted. 

“Drugs?” He sheepishly answered, shifting in his seat and crossing his arms defensively.

 “Drugs.” Hunk echoed.

“Okay, no judgement man, but if ya _really_ wanted drugs y'should know that everything is like, super over-priced here, an' there's police at literally every intersection. This is literally like ten minutes to Las Vegas, y'know right?” Lance chided. Probably not the best thing to say, but wow Keith sure was an idiot.

 “Lance! This is a _serious issue!_ Sorry Keith, but what did you do exactly? Crack? Ecstasy?... _Meth?”_ Hunk fretted, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Uh, jus' a bit of pot?” Keith answered with a shrug, like it was nothing.

 “Okay, but when I ran ya down you did _not_ look stoned.” Lance criticised, “So that must have been a long time before I ran you over, right?”

“Yeah, about that, it didn't work.” Keith stated. 

Okay, just what did he mean by that? Weed just doesn't not 'work'.

“Hang on, this is confusing enough as is, what were the events leadin' up to you gettin' run over? Like, _why_ were ya in Nevada meetin' up with a now convicted drug dealer?” Hunk questioned.

 “You want th' long version or?”

“Jus' twenty words, or around that please.” Lance groaned.

 “I'm just on leave for a few days, I was meetin' up with a friend from school, Craig-"

“The drug dealer?” Lance interrupted.

 “Yeah, whatever, th' drug dealer. Jus' to catch up a bit. He's just an old friend from way back in high school. Went to his place, _tried_ to get high, an' just did some catchin' up.” Keith quickly explained. Well, he wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, and it was dead obvious that he was hiding something. Hunk had an incredible Bullshit Detector, and it was flying off the charts. Lance wasn't as good as Hunk at detecting bullshit, but he knew that wasn't the whole story.

 Lance raised an eyebrow at Keith through the rear view mirror. “Yeah, like 'catchin' up' totally does not sound super suspicious at all.”

 Keith frowned and rubbed his temple with the heel of his hand. “Okay, you wanna know th' full story? He could get high just fine, for some reason I couldn't. Dunno, maybe pot jus' doesn't work on me or somethin', so I got drunk. An' I am a slob when drunk, an' he ain't much better when he's stoned.” he huffed, a flush rising to his cheeks and a small pout on his face.

 Yeah, he was definitely hiding something, and this time Hunk raised his brows at him.

 “Yeah, we get ya buddy, while you were drunk ya totally went out an' killed someone. No-one just does _nothing_ for like five hours, even if they're stoned and or drunk.” He chewed out.

 Keith rolled his eyes, but he looked embarrassed if anything. “Fine, y'really wanna know? We fucked. Jesus christ, can't you two take a _hint!?_ ”

 Lance probably shouldn't have, but he snorted and almost lost control of the wheel. It was so obvious, how could they not pick up on it? If anything, Lance was laughing at just how oblivious him and Hunk were.

 “God, Keith, for how long!?” Lance hooted back.

“Ever heard of mindin' your own business!?” Keith hissed at him.

 “But dude, y'got there at nine, I ran ya over at two...oh my god that's fuckin' _hours.”_ Lance was now wheezing, even Keith got laid more than him, and that man seemed to have the social skills of a teaspoon. Hunk almost looked sorry for Keith, just as embarrassed that he didn't pick up on his hinting.

 Hunk was the one to put a stop to this 'embarrass the shit outta Keith' situation, clearing his throat loudly.

 “Okay, uh, thanks Keith for explainin', sorry 'bout this...mess.” Hunk apologised, and Keith seemed to accept it with a nod. “So if you were still alive, ya coulda been arrested for drug usage like Craig. That's harsh man.”

 Keith nodded. “I just didn't want 'em to find out, I mean, we're only human, of course we're gonna do stupid shit every now an' again.” He leaned back into the seat with a sigh. “Honestly, seein' Katie an' Shiro disappointed in me is th' worst thing to happen, but at least they didn't seem too fussed about th' fact I was usin' drugs, too busy thinkin' about whether I was alive or not.”

 Wait. If Shiro and Katie thought that Keith's death was related to drugs, then that would officially clear Lance and Hunk from being suspects. They'd be treated as witnesses instead. Well, they were _already_ witnesses, but if they kept this up they'd be off the suspects lists. Even for Lance this was morbid, the fact that he would rather save his skin than own up to manslaughter, but Keith already said he would haunt him for the rest of his days, so that was a punishment in itself, right?

 Hunk hummed in agreement. “Pretty much, we're just human after all. We're supposed to make mistakes, we're supposed to get dirty an' let loose. Hell, I-I wouldn't want to live my whole life sittin' down an' shuttin' up, followin' every rule. Sure, I follow rules, but not all th' time, a-an' that's okay.”

 Lance had deep friends, good thing he enjoyed listening to their every word.

“You're right, but about that? I'm at least sixty percent sure he had some sort of STD.” Keith snorted.

 “Gross.” Lance just snickered back.

 The border passed by without any troubles this time, no police cars with their peculiar occupants and flashing lights, just the afternoon sun rolling in.

 

-

 

The suburbs hadn't changed at all within a day and a bit. It felt odd, as to Lance and Hunk it felt like they were gone for decades and grown older and (probably not) wiser. But nope, it was just a day, just a rotation of the Earth and Moon. So what, they were a little shaken and the car left with three humans and had only come back with two, it was still just a day. The smell of blood and bone and the faint scent of waterlogged corpse still lingered in the air, and Lance would have to sort out his tainted car fast, but just thank god they didn't have a body on their hands anymore.

 “Hunk?”

 “Lance?”

The pair took one look at each other, and they still had it in them to softly smile at each other, barely a small quirk at the corners of their lips.

“Keith?” Hunk and Lance said together, twisting their heads to stare at the backseat, where Keith was sitting hunched over in the middle with his arms folded.

 “Still here.” he mumbled.

 Lance chewed the inside of his cheek and he stopped the ignition. The garage door was closed behind them thanks to Hunk volunteering, so they were pretty safe to air out the poor car. Hunk kept his door open, hanging his legs out of the car, and Keith seemed to be struggling to wind down the windows, dumb ghost, so Lance did it for him. They'd have to sort out his car, the poor little thing was tainted and smelt just as terrible, and it would raise some suspicions. Hunk deserved to go home, but he had to take some of the blood and bone with him.

“Hunk, I'm so so sorry I dragged you into this, but thanks for stayin' with me.” Lance voiced.

 “Hey man, you're my best friend, y'know that? An' if that means hidin' a dead body together, alright. But can we just agree that whatever happened in th' car, _stays_ in the car?” Hunk asked.

“Course, man. We tell no-one. Right Keith?” Lance asked, and turned around to look at Keith, who just flipped him off. “So by th' way, what's happenin' with you now?”

 Keith just shrugged. “Dunno. Still gonna haunt you though.”

 Lance just groaned and kicked open the car door. “Nope. Nope, nope, nopity nope-" he sang, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead. And Keith just had the nerve to snicker.

 “Wait, you can't move anything...so what _are_ ya gonna do then, hm?” Lance looked pointedly at Keith, while Hunk seemed to be giving up on trying to stop their bickering.

“I'm gonna make ya _real_ uncomfortable.”

 “Aight, how then?”

“Gonna stare at ya in th' shower-”

 “No.”

“Gonna make th' bathroom my permanent residence-”

 “No.”

“I'm gonna watch ya masterbate-"

 “Stop it. I _will_ call th' Ghostbusters, wherever they are! So you can take that 'Imma haunt you to the grave' bullshit an' tightly roll it up an' shove it up your di-"

“Guys! You're being too loud again!” Hunk interrupted, once again shutting them both up. If anything, both of them wouldn't dare argue with Hunk, despite the man being a literal ray of sunshine. “Honestly? I can't believe you two would even--argue like _three-year-olds_ about this again.” he added, sighing deeply and folding his arms on top of the car. “Okay, Keith, if anything you have full permission to stay with me-"

 “What!? Hunk, no, I got y'into this mess-” Lance pleaded.

 “So Keith, you have full permission to stay with me, because Lance has his personal barriers too. And Lance, Keith--try not to argue too much, eh? This is sticky enough as-is, an' the last thing I need is for my closest friend to be havin' a total meltdown every two seconds.” Hunk interrupted again, starting to get fed up with their childish quarrelling. “I'm puttin' my foot down. Sorry, but I'm not takin' any sides, you both screwed up, y--ya just gotta sort your stuff out, aight? Fuck man, I dunno what else to do...this is over, right? Can we just leave this behind? I know, I'm ramblin', but for God's sake just grow up you two, aight? Please, I-I don't wanna keep this body in th' back anymore.”

 Well, that really hit them both. For Lance, he'd just gone and hurt his best friend. For Keith, he's just hurt the most loyal person he'd ever met. But Hunk didn't even have a role in killing Keith, he was literally dragged into this by the hand early one morning, and was too loyal to just back out of it.

 “You know what? Sorry guys, but I-I needa break, this is--this's jus' too much, okay?” Hunk cried out, and he averted his watery eyes to the ground and sniffed wetly. “Lance, thanks for the ride. Keith, thanks for not hauntin' me too much.”

 Hunk didn't even look at them as he walked past them and out the door, gently closing it behind him.

 Fuck.

Lance and Keith just both stared at that door. Lance looked over to see Keith running his hands through his hair and looking just so disgusted with himself, and to be honest? Lance felt the same. Hunk didn't deserve this, he did this to him. One might say that as soon as Lance ran down Keith, Hunk being dragged into his mess was bound to happen. But it wasn't, he just had a habit of taking those he loved down with him.

 “Keith, wanna go home?” Lance uttered.

 “Yeah.”

 

~

 

And Lance didn't even bother leaving some bags of blood and bone in Hunk's garage.

 He was regretting it in the back of his mind, shifting bags behind his humble flat at six in the evening, the damp mud dirtying his shoes and the hem of his jeans. Lance kept his mind blank, shifting bag after bag after bag. He'd just lost Hunk. Hunk who deserved the universe and so much more than Lance could give. Hunk, his best friend in the world.

 No, try not to think about that. He's not gone, he's still around, right? Just a five minute drive and just the touch of a call button away. Hunk wasn't really gone, right? He couldn't be, he just couldn't he-

 No. Just work.

 Lift. Drop. Repeat. Lift. Drop. Repeat. Lift. Drop. Repeat.

 Sweat had dampened his hair, and his arms were starting to ache. The sun had rolled away, and a few stray droplets of rain had started to fall. Keith was still watching silently, sitting cross-legged on the hood of the car with his head in his hands. Wasn't it supposed to rain tomorrow?

 At least Lance liked the rain.

 Instead of pulling his jacket up, instead of going inside, he shrugged his jacket off and let it drop at his feet in the mud, staring at the mountain of bags piled up like brickwork against the side of his flat. The rain meant the start of new things, rejuvenation and birth. There wasn't even an afterlife, guess he could say that there was no need to worry about what comes next. No giant consciousness to judge him for his actions and sins. Nothing.

 Lance tilted his head up to the sky and sighed, letting the rain fall and soak his skin and shirt. Now it was really pouring, like waterfalls from the grey sky and the soothing pitter patter on the concrete and dirt.

 “Lance!? You mad or somethin'!?” Keith called out, confused as to why in the seven hells Lance would be spinning circles in the rain. Instead, Lance laughed.

 “Nothing matters, Keith! Look at this! Nothin' fuckin' matters!” He laughed, eyes shut and his smile shaking. “Y'see that? N-nothin' matters, doesn't it?”

 No, what was Lance going on about? Keith was confused. Everything mattered in some way or another. Hell, if nothing mattered, why would he go out of his way to hide his body then?

 Lance tilted his head towards Keith, and now he could really see it. It wasn't just raindrops on his face. Lance sighed, still trying to retain his shaking smile, and turned to Keith, looking their gaze in the middle of the rain.

 “Nothin' matters in th' end, right? One day I-I'll be forgotten, you'll be forgotten, an' none of this will even matter.” Lance sobbed, and he sniffed wetly, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “Keith? You're already dead, please Keith, j-just tell me this's all for somethin'. This can't have not just h-happened without a reason, r-right? Keith, I-I-I need you to _tell_ me, this's all for somethin'. E-everything happens for a reason, right?” Lance continued, shaking his head and letting his smile falter, his chin and lip quivering. “Please Keith, th-there's gotta be a reason why this happened, there's gotta be. Keith, jus' please tell me… jus' tell me e-everything's gonna be alright.”

 This wasn't like Lance. He barely knew him for two days, but this wasn't Lance. Lance was optimistic, overly joyous. He didn't ask for reassurance or pity.

 “Lance? I don't think-"

 “Please Keith,” -Lance continued, outright sobbing now, “-jus' tell me everythin's gonna be okay.”

 But it wasn't. This was never going to turn out okay. Lance knew that as soon as his car ran over the pavement. Nothing was going to be alright. But Keith couldn't just lie to his face now, could he? Could he really lie to a man just putting his dignity out there, sobbing in the rain as he buried evidence?

 So Keith kept his mouth shut.

 “Keith?”

 A tightness had gripped Keith's throat, but he still refused to say anything. He couldn't say a white lie, but he couldn't live with Lance's guilt either.

 “Keith? Wh-why aren't y'sayin' anythin'?”

 Good thing the rain could hide tears.

 “Jus' fuckin' say _somethin',_ goddamnit! Why won't you jus' say _anything!?_ ” Lance cried out, screaming with his fists balling in his hair on his knees in the mud.

 And still, Keith did the thing he was best at, keeping his mouth shut. No, Lance may have done some shitty things, but so had Keith. Lance didn't deserve this, his life all but a moving trainwreck, having killed someone and burnt a bridge in the same weekend.

 “Jus' come inside.” Keith called out instead. Lance looked up at his outstretched hand, even though it could do nothing. “Don't beat yourself up over this.”

 Lance looked up at Keith with his reddened eyes. “An' jus' why are ya bein' so _nice_ to me? I literally killed you!”

 Keith grit his teeth and groaned “Jus' stop this 'nothing matters' bullshit! I forgive you! Maybe you're right, nothing matters in th' end, so why should I hold a grudge if it's jus' gonna make us both miserable in th' end?” He had to yell over the roar of the rain.

 That got Lance to short circuit. “What?”

 “Lance, I forgive you. Y'heard me! Nothin' matters in th' end, all what matters is right now. Yeah, we're gonna one day be forgotten, so it doesn't matter what we do. An' right now, I forgive you.”

 Keith couldn't lie to Lance. Not at all. That only made Lance cry harder, until it was hard to tell what were the tears and what was the rain.

 

~

 

It took a while to coax Lance to come inside. And because it was technically his flat, he just undressed at the door (save for his underwear) and headed straight off to the shower, leaving his dirty laundry at the door. Lance's flat was small and modest: a kitchenette to the left, a small living room with a dark blue couch and an oak coffee table littered with cups, a guitar resting against the arm of the couch. The carpet had multiple stains, looked to be flushed with water, and a window overlooked the wonky carport, where the little blue car was parked. The dishes weren't done, and a half cup of coffee was still left on the kitchen bench. Well, Lance wasn't here, and Keith just sprawled on the couch. Honestly? He hadn't felt this shitty in a long time. He hadn't cried in a long time either. It was nearing seven, and it was quiet, save for the sound of rain on the roof. How was Hunk going? He wasn't in a good place last time Keith saw him, leaving them standing in a garage. Then again, Keith wasn't considered to be the most sensitive of people, maybe he should just keep his distance for now.

 What Lance was crying on about still shook Keith. Never before had he seen someone so optimistic just break down like that, crying out that nothing mattered in the end, nothing ever matters and nothing ever will. Keith shivered and sank down into the couch cushions.

 Lance emerged around half an hour later, hair wet, wearing a pair of gym shorts and an oversized yellow shirt. You could barely even tell that just under half an hour ago, he was crying his eyes out. Keith moved his legs, letting Lance sink down on the couch next to him.

 “Hey.” Lance voiced blankly.

 “Hey.”

 Lance looked at Keith and smiled gently, and Keith couldn't help but mirror it. Did Keith really forgive Lance for killing him? A little. Did he not forgive Lance for running over him? A little.

 “So what you said before...y'really meant it? Y'forgive me?” Lance asked on, and Keith nodded.

 “Yeah, like y'said: nothing matters in th' end, might as well live while we can, eh?”

 Lance just smiled in disbelief. “Damn, all that comin' from a ghost of all things.”

 Even Keith had to laugh a little at that.

 “Y'mind if I see what's on?” Lance asked, grabbing a black remote from the coffee table, gesturing to the tiny television on a stand against the wall.

 “Knock yourself out.”

 Keith wasn't even sure when he started to feel like this, sympathising for his own killers. But he had an exhausting day, and right now he just needed a distraction. Him, Lance and Hunk all needed a distraction.

 Lance flicked through the channels quickly, scrolling past soaps and budget movies before flicking it off.

 “So Keith, how do you feel about illegal streamin'?” Lance joked, reaching under the couch and pulling out a laptop.

 “I don't care, as long as I can watch something for free.” Keith bounced back.

 Lance set up his laptop on the coffee table (who the hell just has twenty-seven tabs open, by the way?) and he flicked over to some dodgy website, clicking on the first film that came up. Some eighties film by the looks of it, judging from the grainy picture quality. Already it was unsettling, about a group of boys in search for a body. As if they didn't need reminding of the day's events.

 “You hungry?” Lance piped up, a bit eager to change the subject. His phone was already in his hand, and a number was on the screen. Keith didn't even get hungry, but if it meant food being thrown at his face, it was oddly likeable.

 “Why not?”

 “I'm gettin' a pizza. I don't have alotta money, but an exception can be made here, right?” Lance joked. He tapped the screen with both thumbs quickly, and then dropped it onto his lap. “I gotta question: pineapple or no pineapple?”

 “What?”

 “On pizza, noob. Pineapple or no pineapple?”

 Keith didn't really care either way, so he just shrugged. Lance scrutinised him and stuck his lip out.

 “It's better than pineapple on pizza, I guess.” Lance declared, and leaned back. “I gotta get drunk tonight, you in?”

 “Don't you have work tomorrow?”

 “Fuck work, I deserve this.” Lance snorted. “Normally Hunk's my drinkin' buddy, will ya be my substitute?”

 How could Keith refuse? He won't be doing much anyways. Already, haunting his murderer was going off to a great start.

 

~

 

“Aight, three...two-"

 “Hey y'cheat! We agreed, three to two to one, not to cut it off halfway!”

“Eh, well in _my_ book, that's perfectly fair!”

 “You're th' worst.”

 “Ha! I knew that far long before you did!” Lance crowed back, a dopey smile on his face. Throwing pepperoni slices at Keith's mouth was fun at first, but now it was sorta dying off. That, and the wine was almost gone. He wasn't _that_ drunk, he kept telling himself, And if he was it was Keith's fault.

 “Whatever.” Keith scoffed back, pouting. He was currently sitting in the kitchen sink, the tap twisted around so it didn't dig into his back. Keith hated wine, but Lance for some reason loved it as much as a middle aged soccer mom. Already, he was looking far looser, far different to the man crying in the rain over his lost friend and uncertain future. Keith almost felt terrible about being the cause of Hunk and Lance's friendship falling out, no, he did feel terrible about it. Those two had something special between them, 'coz Keith knew that not many people could communicate with just a look alone. They'd been friends since they were in kindergarten for christ's sake. He was the literal rift between the unbreakable pair. Now, Keith had his own mission.

 

Keith was going to fix that rift.

 

~

 

 Keith woke up on the couch this time, arm hooked over the armrest and his legs almost spread-eagled, one resting against the couch's back and the other grazing the floor. Just how did he even get into these weird sleeping positions anyway? He groaned and rubbed his eyes, sitting up to see Lance dozing in the armchair across from him, the man with his face resting on the back of his hand, curled up sideways. Amusing that he was dribbling a little bit, and sleep crusted his eyes. It was always awkward being the first one up, and by the looks of it Lance wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. If there was a good thing about being dead, the kinks and pains that would have followed with being in such an odd sleeping position never came, and Keith just stretched and rolled off the couch painlessly. Well, he was a guest, right? Surely a sticky-peek around the place wouldn't hurt.

 A small hallway branched off from between the kitchenette and living room, leading down to a bedroom and a bathroom. Lance had left the door to his room wide open, so Keith was free to look in. The room was actually rather tidy. His bed was made, a bookshelf was filled with old schoolbooks all arranged in alphabetical order, and even his bedside table was clean, just containing a small cactus, a lamp and a phone charger. His windowsill however, had a blind drawn down, slats of wood angled down and filtering soft golden light onto the cream carpet and his powder blue duvet. A small collection of precious and colourful rocks refracted coloured light onto the walls, and a small basil plant was wilting in the light. The view from his window wasn't particularly great, but it was...comfy? Homely? It just showed his small backyard, an abandoned gardening patch but with the yellowed lawns well looked after and trimmed, small daisies and weeds growing around a crooked wire mesh fence separating his house from his neighbour's. A rickety clothesline was snagged onto a straggly bare apple tree that grew on an angle, and faded pink pegs clung on. It caught the rising sun, and Keith could easily imagine waking up to this. A little oasis in the middle of the desert. Small chirps of birds filled the air, and everything felt still. Keith lost track of how much time he spent watching outside before he considered it best to move on.

 Lance's bathroom on the other hand, to describe it, was like an orderly chaos. How many bottles of moisturiser and shower products did one person need? They were stood on the floor, on the edge of the sink and in an overfilled shower caddy. The washing machine was also kept in the bathroom, tucked right next to the toilet and the tubes running out a window. A loud groan from the living room alerted Keith. Damnit, he was only scraping the top off this room, but he stuck his head out and stared at Lance, who was stretching in his armchair. Lance noticed him, as he sent a look his way.

 “Mornin' Keith...what time is it?” Lance slurred, before taking his phone out of pocket, grumbling when he realised it was out of battery. “Okay, what is th' time?”

Keith had no choice but to head back to the kitchen, checking the time on the microwave. Nine thirty seven. Lance groaned again at that. He wouldn't be going to work anytime soon.

“I fucked up, huh?” Lance guessed. “I shoulda never dragged 'im into this.”

 Lance's face fell at the thought of losing Hunk. If only he'd done so much more, in other words, never dragged Hunk into his shitstorm in the first place.

Keith felt like he was intruding in on this, being the bystander yet again. He was the catalyst in this. Not like he could do much about it though, it's already been done, the evidence? His body was trapped in a bay. Lance stared at the ground, his lip quivering again.

 “Keith?”

 “Yes?”

Lance was silent, but he pulled himself together enough to continue. “You remember how I asked you why're you still here?”

Keith nodded. That was back at the gas station, just yesterday. Same time as yesterday too. “Yes?”

 “Just go.”

It was like a string being snapped. There was no joking note in Lance's voice, just two flat words.

“What?”

“Y'heard what I said. Just go.” Lance repeated, looking up at Keith. A faint scowl was ghosting on his face, eyes glassy and he looked like he would burst into tears again, and yet he looked nothing short of terrifying. “Go.”

 One word. Keith inhaled a breath and exhaled heavily.

“Okay.”

 He didn't even need to open the door. Didn't even need to look back to see the sudden change of Lance's expression. Didn't even need to think about it, he was halfway down the driveway already, just walking away from Lance and his little blue car.

No. Lance may want him to go, but Keith still had plenty of fire left in him. He had a mission, get Lance and Hunk back together.

Keith glanced over his shoulder at the front door of the flat. His face quickly turned into a scowl and he stormed back to it. Oh Lance would get a piece of his mind. If he could, he would drag Lance out to Hunk's doorstep himself. He stood through the door, words on the tip of his tongue, but-

Lance was standing stiffly, mouth hung open and eyes blinking back tears, staring at the tv screen. Completely frozen. Then Keith saw why. A bottle beach blonde was talking blankly on the screen, her words seemed fuzzy, but the next set of images said it all. Something about a couple of fishermen finding a body washed ashore wrapped in plastic, police tape on traffic cones around the bay where he was dumped yesterday and a white sheet on the beach, the small bumps in the fabric covering what just had to be his rotting body.

 They'd found him.

Oh god, they'd found him.

Keith was frozen. He should be rejoicing, he should be happy that his body has been found, that his murder would finally get the justice it deserves. Instead he felt completely and utterly terrified. He just had to let himself get attached to these two in such a short amount of time, and during that time he learned that they honestly didn't deserve a life in prison, they were just like him. Sure, they fucked up, but everyone does now and then. Normally, Keith couldn't care less over someone else's trivial matters, but he was the main cause of this, and he had to do something to at least help everything go back to normal. Wait, was this Stockholm syndrome? Lance turned to him, that anger directed at him no longer on his face, and he looked just so small and scared. In a split second, Lance had snatched his car keys off the table, and was heading out the door. No, this was wrong. Lance was gonna do something terrible. Keith didn't know what, but something terrible was gonna happen, he just knew it. And he was running after Lance with his hands outstretched for him.

 “Lance? Lance, wait-!” Keith cried out to him.

 ”No! Keith, don't tell Hunk. I'm sorry...for everything.” Lance breathed and Keith was helpless as Lance got into the driver's seat, jamming the key into the ignition and speeding off down the driveway. No, he couldn't do this. Lance had so much ahead of him, whatever he was gonna do, Keith knew it wouldn't be good. Keith balled his hands in his hair and kept on murmuring 'no'. Keith knew he was the root cause of this shitstorm, and he was sure as hell gonna be the one to resolve it.

 “Lance! Please! You're makin' a mistake! _Please!”_ Keith cried out after him, but Lance looked determined, a flash of sadness passed over his face as he sped out of the driveway, leaving Keith in his literal dust.

 This was never meant to happen, everything was falling apart in front of Keith's eyes. His chest felt tight and his breaths shook. He knew what he had to do, there was only one person who could sort this out.

  
Keith had to find Hunk and fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've already said it so many times, but I'm as thirsty for comments as much as Lance is thirsty for a stable relationship, and I would love to hear some feedback and critique, on whether its too rushed, too boring etc (but please be kind, Im still learning after all) or if there's just anything you want cleared up! (lots of this was written late at night, and as with my other fics, so there may be errors or things Ive overlooked) I'll be editing this chapter later, but because its been a while since the last chapter, I just wanted to get this out there. Thanks for reading! One more chapter to go!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this far! Please tell me how to improve. I am considering continuing this, but I would very much like some feedback to help out so any comments would be greatly appreciated :)
> 
> I am also always up for a chat/prompt on tumblr! My fanfiction blog is @gingernutting.


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